She lets out a little grunt of frustration, and the sex-kitten act ends. “Is this about her? Are you seriously telling me you would rather hang out with this pathetic, trashy little gold digger than with us? Don’t act like you didn’t laugh at her just as much as we did. What, did you suddenly grow a conscience? Or maybe you’re doing this for charity?” Her friends giggle like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.
“Yeah. We would rather hang out with her than with you. Now ask yourself, Chelsey,” Otis lowers his voice, leaning closer, “what does that say about you?”
Denver, meanwhile, signals for the waiter. “Can you please find a table for these girls as far away from ours as possible?”
That’s not good enough for her. “Are you kidding me? What is wrong with you? Since when do you treat me like this? How long have we known each other, and you’re going to pull something like this?” When the waiter tries to speak to Chelsey, her head snaps around in his direction. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll sit anywhere I damn well please.”
“Last time I checked, you’re not the owner.” Otis folds his arms, grinning. “You don’t have any say in it.”
“You’re free to take your business elsewhere,” Denver offers. “Maybe at a restaurant where they don’t serve so-called trash.”
“But then, where would she eat?” Odis asks, and the two of them burst out laughing.
I can’t help but look at Chelsey just to see her reaction. It’s worth it. She’s almost purple, teeth bared, eyes spitting fire as she gets up and storms out of the restaurant, flinging threats of bad reviews and revenge on social media while her minions follow at her heels. I’m sure a restaurant that charges twenty bucks for a beef patty is going to shake in their boots over a threat like that.
It’s like a tornado just blew through. My thoughts are all mixed up. Did that just happen? More importantly, why did it happen? “I can’t believe you told her off like that,” I murmur once I can suck in enough air to speak.
“Why? We weren’t kidding when we said we didn’t set things up earlier, and we didn’t set this up, either.” Odis is still chucking. “As much as I hate being near her, it was worth it to watch her get what she deserved.”
“She brings this shit on herself,” Denver agrees. “Nobody ever told her the entire world isn’t high school. Nobody cares who she is.” They sound like they mean it. I’m afraid to believe them, but I do.
That doesn’t mean I completely trust them, though. They could’ve done that to placate me. I can’t let my guard down. It’ll only get me hurt. “Well, thanks,” I mutter anyway since it seems like I should say it.
“You don’t have to thank us.” I glance at Denver and can tell he’s not kidding. “It was the right thing to do.”
“I wish we had done it sooner—like, years ago,” Odis admits. “She deserved it then, too.” I want to point out he was dating her up until not that long ago, and maybe he should reflect on his taste in women, but that might be too low of a blow after they both humiliated her for my sake.
The food is good, at least. It has to be at these prices. I wonder what it must be like to have the sort of money these two have. They don’t need to think about it for a fraction of a second. Meanwhile, I’m desperate to get even a minimum-wage job in a crappy store.
They don’t ask me about the job applications, thank God. One good thing about Chelsey showing up—she distracted them. I would never have guessed I’d be glad she flew in on her broomstick. The idea of her throwing a fit somewhere makes me smile, even if I wonder whether she’ll come up with a way to turn it into my fault and pay me back somehow.
Which makes the idea of taking a public-facing job at the mall grueling. I won’t have these two with me while I’m working. There won’t be anybody to stick up for me. What other choice is there, though?
Denver drives us back to the mall, where my car is waiting. Why can’t I shake the feeling there has to be more to this than what’s on the surface? What do they want from me? Why are they being so nice and considerate? They wait in Denver’s car while I get into mine and start the engine.
Or… try to start the engine.
“You’re kidding me.” I turn the key. Nothing. I try again. Still nothing. Not even a clicking noise, like the time the starter went.
Odis lowers his window. “You okay?”
I can only stare at the dashboard and grip the wheel so hard my joints ache. This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. “I didn’t leave my lights on or anything, did I?” I ask.
“No, we would’ve seen that.” Odis gets out, leaning in through my open window. “Want me to try?”
I want to ask what he thinks he’ll do differently than I am, but I can’t find the words. It’s easier to get out and let him give it a shot. “Damn,” he mutters when he doesn’t get any further than I did. Meanwhile, a tiny part of me was hoping he’d get it to start, so I’m more crushed than ever.
“We’ll take you home,” Denver offers. “Nothing’s going to happen to it here. We’ll figure something out.”
We. I love how he uses that word. As if this is a group problem instead of just my own.
Why does my entire life have to fall apart all at once? First the scholarship, now this. As if I didn’t need a job badly enough before, I’ll have to pay for repairs before I can even think about saving for school.
But how am I supposed to get to work without a car?
I can only grit my teeth and hold back the tears as I get in with Denver and Odis and say nothing as we ride home. It’s not stuttering I’m worried about this time. It’s bursting into tears.
I won’t let them see me cry.