“Actually, considering who my father is, I’d say it’s entirely my concern.”
“Are you threatening to tell the coach I’m not up to par?”
“No,” Jared shakes his head. “I’m threatening to tell my dad you’re not up to it. He’ll bench you faster than you can possibly imagine, Gav. Get it together. Seriously. Fuck her or fuck off. I don’t get why you’re so obsessed.”
He walks off, heading toward school, but obviously done with me. Timothy doesn’t say a word, but he takes off after Jared, which is more than enough. They’ve taken a stand, and that stand is against me.
Well, fuck them.
Who cares?
I kick at the wall, pissed. A bird flutters by and silently judges me. I wish I could punch the wall or scream, but I’m not going to risk drawing any more attention to myself than I already have. Instead, I take off down the road, careful to stay far away from my “friends,” and I wonder if Emilia is actually going to show up.
Emilia
“WHAT DID HE MEAN BY that?”
“By what?” I don’t look up and meet my friends’ eyes because I know they’re going to be staring me down to see if I’m telling the truth or not.
“You’re a shitty liar,” Karen says.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Look, what do you want me to say?” I finally look up. “I don’t know what he means. I don’t know why he wants to talk to me. I just...” I stand up and wipe my greasy hands on my skirt. It’s gross. Now I’ll need to get some Shout or something to get the marks out of my school uniform. Crap. “I want to go,” I say.
“We’re not done eating,” Adalee looks at both her and Karen’s plates, which are notably absent of fries.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll pay and take off. I have some homework to catch up on anyway. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I turn and head to the front register before they can stop me. I wait anxiously, tapping my foot as I wait for the curvy waitress to come over and ring up my order.
“How was everything, doll?” She asks. She smiles a little too brightly, and I stare at her red lipstick.
“It was fine.”
“Can I get you anything else before you go?”
She means a slice of pie. I eye the counter, looking at the all of the different choices, but I don’t need anything. Somehow, the idea of trying to eat a piece of pie just makes me feel even more sick.
“I’m fine.”
She taps the register, pointing to the total amount displayed on the front, and I hand her a twenty. She starts making my change, and it takes all of my self-control not to look over at my friends.
I know they’re judging me.
I know they’re wondering what my fucking problem is.
They want to know why I’m okay with him. Probably, they want to know why I didn’t slap him in the damn face when he showed up here. Seriously, what was Gavin thinking?
The waitress hands me my change and I give her a five. Her eyes widen a little. It’s a 50% tip, but I don’t even care.
“Thanks,” she says, pocketing the money.
“Have a good one.”
I turn and leave without a backwards glance. The bells on the little door jingle, announcing my exit to everyone, but fuck if I care. I make it two blocks away from the diner before I stop and lean against the side of one of the buildings.