“Oh, well, I wasn’t entirely sold on the food, but if the waitress is hot,” I murmur, opening my drink.
Cartwright grins and nods. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. See, Ellis is cool. She knows.”
I crack a smile and shake my head. I can’t decide from one moment to the next whether or not I actually like Cartwright, but his ability to go with the flow and jump tracks so comfortably amuses me. I think for today at least, I will like him.
“I’m all about the babes,” I comment inanely, picking up my fajita so I can start eating. Before I do, I lean in to Carter, “Hey, you didn’t actually take that puppy back to your house, did you?”
“No way. Chloe would demand a puppy when we had to return it. Brianna has him. She’s a dog person.”
I nod my head, then turn my attention back to the burrito. “Then I’m going to tell Grace, that way she knows Scout is safe and she won’t be upset.”
“You can’t tell her,” he says, frowning at me.
“I won’t get any of you deviants in trouble, don’t worry. I’ve already thought it through, I just had to find out where the dog was. Now that I know he’s at Brianna’s, we can just pretend Scout did somehow get out of the yard and Brianna happened to find him. While I was over here having lunch with you, I mentioned that Grace’s puppy was missing. Brianna overheard and asked what the dog looked like. I showed her on my phone, and what do you know? Same puppy Brianna happened to find running around last night. Obviously she took the puppy home so it wouldn’t get hit by a car, but now he can be safely returned to his owner. Boom, your ass is covered but Grace still knows she’s going to get her well-loved puppy back as soon as school is over. It even saves me the step of having to go through the motions of searching for the puppy and getting very lucky finding him. Just had to make sure it wasn’t at your house, as you obviously do not live in the same part of the neighborhood, and that story wouldn’t have made any sense.”
Cartwright is staring at me across the table, his fajita dripping toppings onto his plate. “Damn, will you come up with all my alibis, too? That’s fuckin’ thorough.”
I point at him with the corner of my fajita and lift a severe eyebrow. “You’ll say nothing.”
“I always say nothing,” he assures me, before taking a bite. “I can see why Carter likes you so much now, though. You got a brain in that pretty little head too, don’t ya?”
“The Zoey Ellis package is a pretty good one, I won’t lie,” I tell him, flashing him a playfully boastful smirk.
“Sure is,” Carter says, wrapping an arm around me, not appearing to like Cartwright’s praise. “And all mine.”
“Nope. Not yours,” I remind him, but don’t bother shrugging off his arm. I like it where it is.
“It’s all mine,” he assures the guys, who nod like they understand, and my word means nothing.
I roll my eyes, but I’m too worried about getting this fajita in my belly to argue.
A short time later, a decidedly less enjoyable event occurs. Erika comes walking over to the table she has sat at since the first day of freshman year. The table where the cheerleaders and select volleyball girls are gathered, the table where I would sit, as Carter’s girlfriend, if I so chose. I can’t help noticing she changed out of her cheer uniform, which is odd. It’s a game day, and the cheerleaders often wear their uniforms to school on game day. She was wearing it earlier in the picture Kasey sent me.
When she stops at the head of the table, I notice no one moves down to make room for her.
“What are you doing? Move down, you’re in my seat,” she tells Brianna.
Grimacing, Brianna darts a look directly at Carter, then quickly looks away when she sees I caught her. “Um, there’s no room,” Brianna says, a bit awkwardly.
A startled laugh slips out of Erika. “What? Of course there’s room. Move your fat ass and there will be plenty of room.”
One of the other cheerleaders speaks up. “Come on, Erika, don’t make this weird. Just go sit somewhere else.”
Erika’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “No, I’m not going to sit somewhere else. Move.”
“You can’t sit with us,” Brianna snaps, then shakes her head in frustration. “I can’t believe you actually just made me say that.”
Her blue eyes alight with fury, Erika demands, “You’re seriously not going to let me sit at my own table? This is my table. I established it. I’m a fucking—”
“You’re not on the squad anymore,” Brianna states. “You don’t hang out with us anymore, so why would you sit with us? Just find another damn table, Erika. Go away.”