We’re huddled in a large booth under a giant purple neon light. The Purple Crab is one of the more upscale restaurants in Baltimore, right on the harbor. In a city full of great food, itwasone of the places that truly lived up to the hype.
It’s also one of the most expensive. Literally right over thewater, this restaurant is normally completely out of my budget.
Thankfully, my budget is now an allowance from a reality TV show.
“I think the guys were here just the other night actually,” Briar says, looking around. “Some of the guys who live here took the rookies out.”
“That’s really sweet,” Zara hums.
Heidi shakes her head with one of the biggest eye rolls I’ve ever seen, her red curls falling past her shoulders. “No, no it’s not actually once you realize the hazing of it all.”
Zara looks confused.
“They make the rookies pay,” Isla laughs. “When Leo was a rookie he had to pay like three thousand dollars for dinner that night. And that wassplitbetween a couple of them.”
“This is a thing?” I ask, dumbfounded.
The three girls nod.
“This is why I don’t fuck football players!” I sing, holding up my glass whathasto be the millionth toast.
A man moves behind me, and I flinch.
Because I have forgotten, once again, that I’m being filmed. In fact, I’m almost completely certain that that’s why every single one of us are double fisting drinks like our lives depend on it. How the hell are you supposed to act normal when there’s giant cameras around you? People you’re not supposed to talk to?
Isla’s eyes flicker to the right before downing another shot. She’s fading fast.
When our dinners come, I let out a sigh of relief. We can get some food in us, take a couple deep breaths, and go back to my place where we will wake up in the morning, wide eyed and bushy tailed, and get me ready for my fake-ass reality show wedding.
I don’t have high expectations, and they don’t make us officially sign the papers until the very end.
“What are the guys doing tonight?” I ask, nearly passing out as I cut into the giant crab cake in front of me, steam releasing as the lumps of crabmeat fall apart.
Briar smiles. “Apparently they’re having some secret party thing. I wasn’t allowed to know much but Leo wasveryexcited about crab picking.”
Isla groans, her fist hitting the table. “Nothing good comes from Leo crab picking.”
Everyone looks at her expectantly. It doesn’t even look like Briar understands.
Isla rears back dramatically. “You haven’t been crab picking with him?”
Briar shakes her head, her eyes giant.
“You lucky son-of-a-bitch.” Isla is clearly drunk, her entire head rolling along with her eyes. “You think he’s competitive over football? You think he’s an absolute menace to societythen?You should see him pick a fucking crab. I swear to god.”
Crab picking is one of the many things that Delaware tends to share with Maryland. Cooper and I grew up knowing that if the rolls of brown paper were out, we were going to be covering the table in the backyard in them, my dad coming home with a giant box of steamed crab. It’s a social thing. You’re there for hours, eating crab after crab, the shells piling up around you, old bay under your nails.
I think about it for a second. “I actually think that’s the least surprising thing I’ve ever learned about Leo,” I admit.
“Yeah I have to agree, though it’s good to know,” Briar says with a nod.
“He’s a menace.” Isla grumbles. She and her brother have always had a close relationship, with Leo taking on a lot of her bills in order for her to also follow her dreams. But that doesn’t mean that Leo is a saint, and he’s had his fair share of growing to do.
“A cute menace with a nice ass,” Briar closes her eyes, a giant grin on her face.
The night starts to get blurry. We finish our dinner. And then we definitely finish our drinks. And then we all pile into a van to head back to my place.
“Nothing good happens in a sprinter van,” Isla says as she looks around, climbing onto the van like she’s an Australian wildlife expert.
