“Hunter….”
Pushing Kristen off me with a giggle, I sat back up. God, his date even whined like I expected her to, high-pitched and annoying.
“Why not?” Brittany asked.
“Because, Taylor Jane is allergic to seafood, that’s why.” Hunter glanced over the menu. “Let’s get the sampler platter minus the shrimp. Everybody likes that.”
“Phew, that was a close one,” Kristen agreed approvingly.
“Oh, everybody knows those allergies are so fake. It’s like that gluten thing people make up.” Brittany swirled her drink taking a sip, and the table lapsed into that uncomfortable silence.
For a second, I thought she might even twirl her fake hair and wondered if Kristen would try to shank her like a convict from Orange is the New Black. Minus the hair, Kristen could have been a dead ringer for Piper.
“Actually, it’s not fake. I remember one time Taylor Jane wanted to impress her date. What was that kid’s name?”
“Oh shit, Hunter. You can’t let me live that down, can you?” My face burned, remembering that humiliating awkward time in my life.
“Well, what was his name, Narty-Pa?” He winked, and everyone at the table rolled their eyes. Brittany looked like she was sounding out the nickname Hunter called me, her red lips made an obscene shape as her eyes rolled upward. I wasn’t about to tell her that it was from an old shirt that used to say, ‘smarty-pants’ but most of the letters washed off, including half of the ‘m’ leaving my undersized chest bearing ‘Narty-Pa’ instead. It had become a long-standing joke between us, eliciting secret grins for years. Brittany wasn’t in the circle of trust to know this and I wasn’t in a particularly inviting mood.
“Yeah, don’t bother trying to understand these kids, they have a language all of their own.” Kristen snickered, and I let my head bow down to ignore him.
Hunter’s foot nudged mine under the table and I huffed out the name, giving up. “Jeremy Dolan.”
“Yeah, that kid was a total douchebag.” Hunter’s voice took an edge to it and I wondered what else I had missed back then while I was sporting a face that resembled a Japanese puffer fish.
“Aw, come on, he was sweet while he lasted and he looked good in his soccer uniform.” My so-called relationship with Jeremy lasted about as long as the time it took my EpiPen to kick in.
“Oh hey, yeah, he did!” Kristen chimed in as we recanted the story for what was probably the fiftieth time as friends over the last decade. Rekindling how Jeremy looked like a certain young English prince with copper hair and was so polite until you got him talking about soccer. Brittany rolled her eyes again, completely excluded from the commentary.
“I can’t believe you tried that soup. What was that anyway?” Hunter tapped my hand, drawing a smile from me, and I made a feminine grunt.
“Ugh. Some seafood gumbo at the diner.” I felt a little green around the gills thinking about that night. I didn’t think my body would have stopped its voodoo exorcism without Hunter’s help.
“Ha! I found you outside throwing up behind my old truck and blowing up like a puffy red balloon.”
Hunter and I laughed, tears pricking my eyes at the memory. My face swelled to twice its size and the idiot I was, I didn’t have my EpiPen with me. I gave him a kick, and he grabbed my foot at the ankle, holding me still under the table. A rough finger grazed up and down my thin ankle bone to rest on the back of my calf, massaging my leg before slowly letting go. Moving my foot away, Hunter caught it and kept on the seat under the table near the wall, effectively trapping me for the moment.
“Hell of a night,” Kristen muttered.
Hunter cleared his throat, adding, “I was so scared at the time it happened.” A pin could have dropped and echoed right then at Hunter’s admission. He’d never told me that before. It never occurred to me what might have been running through his mind at the time because I was a little busy hoping I wouldn’t stop breathing and die.
“Gross.” Brittany shuddered in disgust, and I couldn’t blame her. The memory itself still made me queasy to this day.
Kristen nudged me under the table and I looked at her, our eyes met and I silently asked her what. Brittany was rolling her eyes again, was something wrong with her? I got the message loud and clear she didn’t like me. Fine. There was no question in my mind that we wouldn’t be friends, but if she rolled her eyes one more time, I would wonder if she had marbles for brains inside her skull. I didn’t envision Hunter going for the silly bimbo type, but who knew what guys wanted any way. It obviously wasn’t me.
My voice was on the verge of choking as I spoke, “I probably forgot to thank you for taking me to the ER and calling my dad that night.”
“It’s all good, Taylor Jane, you baked me those burned cookies the next time I saw you and chocolate chip has never been the same for me since.” Our table laughed at the secret jokes except for his date, and we were given a reprieve when the food arrived, passing around plates.
“Hey, hooker!” Damien Hart, Hunter’s first cousin through their dads, came over with the same damn swagger Hunter owned as an adult now.
“Fucking Damien.” Kristen tipped back her drink, addressing Hunter. “Can’t you go anywhere without that asshole?” She signaled to Remi for another drink.
Leaning over, Hunter eyed Kristen with a glint of mischief. “Aw, Kristen, you keep talking like that and I might think you’re interested in my cousin, horizontally of course.”
“Blech, now that’s gross!” Kristen continued making her gagging sounds as Damien walked over to our table.
“What’s her problem?” Damien thumbed in Kristen’s direction as he grabbed a chair from a nearby table and swung it around to sit on backward, resting his arms over the top of the back.