CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Itell Elan the entire story of Jack and Jill while we eat our food. He’s a great listener, only commenting or asking questions once in a while. When I’m done, he’s just staring at me.
“What?” I wipe my face with my napkin. “Do I have food all over my face?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. But now I know why Becks is acting like a jackass to you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You threw him for a loop, Foxy. Think about it. He wanted to keep in touch. Wanted your phone number. He wanted to start something with you, but you said no. You were leaving. Then, he sees you at school? I bet he was happy, at first, then when he realized you didn’t leave, he thought you were full of shit like every other girl who tries to get in his pants,” Elan informs me.
“He said something about everyone wanting something from him. I didn’t and don’t. I didn’t know who he was. He was just Jack and I was just Jill.”
“But you’re not anymore.”
“No. No private bubble. It’s all reality and crappiness,” I mutter.
“Don’t look now, but he just walked in,” Elan informs me.
I don’t look, but I really, really want to. Instead, I roll my eyes. “He is everywhere.”
“Shell Beach is a small community and we don’t have a whole lot of burger joints open this late.”
“I suppose.” I look down at my empty plate. That was so good. I look over at Elan’s and his pickle spear is still there. He sees me eyeing it and laughs.
“I don’t share my pickle with just anyone, Foxy. But I’ll share it with you,” he teases as I pick it up. Just as I take a bite, Leo and the blonde walk past.
“Classy,” she murmurs.
I’m about to retort when Elan gives me a look.
“What? If she can be offensive, why can’t I?” I plead. I really, really want to rip her apart with words. Verbal sparring. I’m getting so good at it.
“You’ll regret it if you do.”
“With her? Nope. She wouldn’t affect me at all. I’d love to just…” I rip my napkin into shreds.
“Well then,” Audrey says as she and Isla approach.
“My girls! Dree and La!” I greet.
“Is she still drinking?” Audrey asks Elan.
“No,” I respond, a bit offended. “I just love you guys. Thanks for tonight. That was quite the show.”
They both laugh.
“I had such a great time,” Isla admits.
“Even if you sing as bad as Foxy J,” Carlos teases.
“Hey!” She smacks him in the chest playfully.
“It’s true,” I admit. “Dree carried us vocally.”
“But you strutted your stuff tonight, Foxy J,” Dree says with a wink.
“There’s some stuff I need to tell you. Tomorrow.” They both nod.
