As soon as we were tucked back in the booth, Max threw his head back and erupted with the most ridiculously loud laughter. Becca and I shared tiny smiles but it was clear with our deer-in-the-headlights looks that we had no idea what was actually going on.
“I can’t believe you fucking…” Max laughed again. “I can’t believe you fucking waved at her.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from also cracking up.
“I know, I… I don’t know what came over me.”
Actually, yes, I do. The Charlie’s Angel inside of me wanted to fucking karate chop Breanna away from Dawson. I was channeling my inner Lucy Liu.
“I don’t know, but I loved it. The old Ivy never would have done that. She would have retreated back into her little mouse hole.”
My shoulders slumped. So far tonight I’d been called a turtle and now a mouse.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up over the last six years,” I stated.
“Yes… you have.”
“Gah, keep it in your pants, Mr. Adams.”
My head shot over to Becca, whose cheeks were no longer flushed. She looked steely and cold, angling her body toward Max.
“Mr. Adams?” I questioned, looking back and forth between the pair of them.
They were staring at each other with an intense hold, so intense that I bet if I waved my arm in front of their faces, it wouldn’t even phase them.
A few more seconds passed, along with some thumps of a microphone toward the front somewhere, then they finally broke their stare.
“Yeah, that’s my last name.”
I rolled my eyes at Max. “I know, dummy. But why so formal?”
“We work together,” Becca mumbled under her breath, seeming completely unhappy about the predicament. “He’s the P.E. teacher at the high school.”
“Oh, nice!” I cooed, but Becca huffed from beside me.
“So, what’ll you be having, dears?” Max asked, sliding out from the booth. “Drinks are on me for the two prettiest ladies in here tonight. We’ve gotta welcome Miss Ivy back like she’d never left.”
I giggled because Becca had said the same thing.
As we relayed to Max what we wanted from the bar, a small town band started to play some of their cover songs, blaring acoustic music through the speakers. My attention was momentarily glued to the stage tucked away in the corner, but soon I turned my head around, looking for Dawson and Psycho (I mean Breanna).
I saw Max, grabbing our drinks while also flirting with a girl displaying a lovely tramp stamp from beneath her hot pink tube top. I snickered and Becca groaned in disgust.
&nb
sp; I asked, “What’s going on between you two? You seem tense.”
My eyes roamed the bar, looking for a tall, dark, and handsome guy and his bleached blonde minion but… Dawson and Breanna were no longer in sight.
I searched frantically towards the dance floor, but once again, I came up empty-handed.
Great, I’ve run them out of the bar just by my mere presence.
I would have been happy about that if it had just been Breanna who had left but of course, Dawson being the great boyfriend that I’m sure he was, probably went with her.
“Nothing,” Becca answered, her voice a mixture of contempt and outright anger.
I crinkled my eyebrows, preparing to coax a better response out of her, but I heard a familiar voice boom up ahead.