What did DC tell them?
I casually make my way to the counter to put whipped cream on slices of pie, desperate not to appear like I’m fulfilling some sort of rock ’n’ roll fantasy.
Would it be wishful thinking to hope no one knows that song?
Well, Ms. Liz sure knows it.
“Honey, that’s about the most honest birthday request I’ve ever heard,” she says with watery eyes from laughing.
“It’s a joke. It doesn’t mean what it sounds like. We were talking about pies earlier,” I say, looking down at the plates.
“I was referring to the pies, honey.” She grins pointedly at me. “What did YOU think I was referring to?”
“Shut up, Ms. Liz.” I fail to hold in a laugh. “And I mean that as respectfully as possible.”
I look up from the plates just as Sam comes barreling across the room at full speed, sliding toward me in his socks with his mouth wide open. I spray it full of whipped cream, even though someone really should monitor his sugar.
“Hey, get Jace to play ‘Sugar’ for me while I get these ready to serve.”
“Yes, ma’am! Let’s do it!” He runs back toward the drums, sliding into the mic. “Lu Lu wants ‘Sugar.’”
“Come back over here, Spice Cake. Danny’s got your sugar right—”
“Def Leppard or Maroon 5?” DC yells at me, clapping a hand over Jace’s mouth with a wicked grin.
“Maroon 5, please!” I do a little shimmy to show what I’m thinking, and Annie glares and rolls her eyes before her grin breaks. This is for her.
They moan about it, but they sure put on a good show for guys who claim to hate this song. Annie and I dance like no one’s watching while we serve the desserts, although we areabsolutelybeing watched.
Jace does a spot-on impersonation of Adam Levine, and it cracks me up every time. No one should ever tell him, because his ego is big enough, but it’s pretty hot.
He’s a lot more fun when he’s not being a snippy little douche waffle.
Annie perches on one of the stools, smiling and holding a couple of cake pops since her other friends have left. He teases her—dancing around and making faces as he sings. When they’ve finished, he pulls up a stool next to her, taking one of the cake pops as they start talking quietly. Sam turns on some current pop-country and joins us at the table where I lined up plates of pie.
Daniel plops down next to me, digging into the strawberries, and Sam sits across from us. I notice Tabitha nearing the exit and wave her over. I might as well keep my word and introduce them. It won’t amount to anything, but I’ll follow through.
“Hey Sammy, I found you a new friend.” I grin at him, hoping he’ll humor me.
“Aww. I love new friends.” He grins, briefly crossing his eyes, indicating he knows I’m up to something. He loves me though. He’ll play along.
“Hey, Tabitha! This is Sam Haynes. Sam, this is Tabitha. She’s a sophomore. Just transferred from Memphis.”
“Hey, y’all were great! Do you do this a lot?” she asks.
“I do, but they’re just amateurs.” He stands, sticks his tongue out at me and smiles broadly at Tabitha. “Let’s get you a plate and leave them to whatever they do. I want to know all about Tabitha.”
Sam picks up his own plate and one for her, then charms her to the other side of the room. I shoot him the “she thinks we’re together” head tilt toward Daniel as I link my arm through his and rest our clasped hands—the one he’s not eating with—on the table where they can be seen. Sam nods once. He’s got it. I feela little guilty, but she’s cute and seems sweet. I’m not killing the guy.
“Are you putting moves on me, Punk?” Daniel narrows his eyes and takes another bite.
“No!” That probably came out too loud. “Nothing compared to what you did.”
He smiles, clearly proud of his performance. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
I lower my voice. “I’m just showing Sam she thinks we’re a thing. You’ll feel bad if she finds out you lied. What if you rejected the girl of your dreams?”
“One, I haven’t told a single lie tonight. Two, she’s not the one for me,” he says as he shovels in more pie, making no apologies for his earlier actions.
