She holds a huge grin. “You have fun, kids.” There’s this twinkle in her eye as she beams at me, then calls for the next person to sit down.
Ryan brushes his hand through his hair. We’re a few feet away from the booth, but it’s still too loud to hear myself think.
A few girls from school pass us and whisper to one another as they take in our matching faces. Ugh. Who made up this stupid rule, anyway? And why didn’t I tell Ryan about it? Unless he did it on purpose?
I clear my throat. “So…how about some food?” I point out the different food stations, like hot dogs and pretzels and everything.
His gaze sweeps the area. “You choose.”
“But I’ve chosen everything so far.”
He shrugs. “I’m fine with whatever.”
“Okay, Master Yoda. I guess I’m in the mood for a hot dog.”
“Lead the way, Mistress Yoda.”
I can’t help the giggle that flies out of my mouth as we make our way to the hot dog stand. It’s so loud and embarrassing and I have no idea where that came from.
The more people we pass, the more insecure I feel by their stares. I really should have thought twice before getting matching face paintings.
“Why are they staring?” Ryan asks as we stand in line for the food. He glances at the teens ahead of us who are gawking like they’ve never seen two people hang out before.
“I don’t know,” I say nonchalantly.
The line’s moving, but at a snail’s pace. The kids’ stares have shifted to whispers and I kind of want to disappear. And when Brianne passes by and notices us, her body goes rigid and she gives me the biggest glare in the world. Her friends yank her away before she’ll probably bite my head off.
“Am I missing something?” Ryan says after a few minutes. “Or do I have somethingon my face?”
My lips curl into a teasing smile. “You mean other than a green dude with pointy ears?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess they think you’re hot.”
“They’re staring at both of us.”
I sigh, averting my eyes because I’m the worst liar in the world. “No, it’s you.”
That satisfies him for maybe a few seconds before he shakes his head. “You’re lying. What’s the big secret?”
I take in a deep breath, then let it out. “It’s stupid and doesn’t really mean anything, but everyone thinks it does and that’s why they’re staring.”
He looks like his head is spinning. “What?”
I hesitate. “They think we’re, like, a thing.”
“What?”
“Me and you. Boyfriend and girlfriend.”
He backs up a little, which kind of hurts. “Why would they think that?”
He’s making it seem like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Um, couples usually get matching face paintings.”
He just stares at me. His eyes go from surprised and maybe even a bit of hope and excitement? But then they quickly shift to pain and a bit of anger. No, a lot of anger. It’s growing stronger by the second.
But then it shuts off, like he turned into a robot.
