I sit up, rub my forehead, then turn to him. “I’m a Marine brat. When my dad’s not deployed, I go to school on whatever base he’s stationed at, but since my dad’s deployed a lot, I spend most of the time in Wisconsin with family.”
“So, you’ve moved around a lot?”
“Not a lot but more than I’ve liked.”
He nods. “I can see that. Is your dad stationed somewhere close?”
“No, he’s deployed. I’m here living with my Aunt Ruthie until he gets back.”
“Ah, I see.”
“If you’re done flirting with the new girl, maybe you could shut it so the rest of us can study,” Leo growls.
“Whoa,” Elan says. “What the hell crawled up his ass and died?”
Isla smirks. “I think it starts with an J and ends with an E.”
Just then, Ellen looks over.
“Ouch. If looks could kill, little Jillie, you and your friends would be in a world of hurt,” Elan tells me.
I shrug. “Again, it’s expected today. Karma is kicking my ass, which is unfair since I didn’t realize what I was doing was wrong!”
“Say what?”
I sigh and pat his hand. “Never mind. I better get this reading done so I don’t have to take it home.”
“Cool,” Elan says, opening up a book of his own.
He turned me into a homewrecker. There is nothing worse than that. I would have never—if I’d known. And he’s pissed off at me? He has some nerve, I’ll give him that. So long as he stays out of my path, we’re all good.
I sigh. Oh, who am I kidding. I’m disappointed that Jack—Leo turned out to be such a schmuck. A cheater. Gah. And he’s an jerk. From super sweet guy to super jock jackhole in the blink of an eye.
I wish I’d never seen him again. I wish I could have held on to the dream of Jack and how special he made me feel. I wish…
“Penny for your thoughts,” Audrey prompts.
I shake my head. “You don’t want to get in there right now. It’s a mess.”
She nods. “I’m sorry.”
I nod in return. She knows I was good with letting it all go.
“It’s why I didn’t bring out the yearbook. I knew you didn’t want to ruin it,” she informs me.
“Thanks, for that. I mean it.”
“Don’t worry about Ellen. If she becomes a problem, I’ll handle it,” she tells me, then looks over at the girl in question with a hard expression.
“Will you tell me?”
She nods. “Not just yet, but I will. I’ll need at least a pitcher of margaritas before I can tell that tale.”
“Party this weekend at Steffen’s,” Elan announces.
Audrey perks up. “Sure is. He makes some damn fine margaritas.”
“I prefer daiquiris. Tequila makes me way too sick,” I confess.
