I scoff. "Don't you already know why? He hates me because he thinks me and my mom ruined his life. He even blames me for the car accident he had months before I met him."
"No, that's not it. There's more to it than that."
I shake my head, looking somewhere over his shoulder. "There's not. He's not a rational person."
"You're lying; I know him. I've known him since he was twelve years old."
"Then ask him."
"I'm asking you. What'd you do to him?"
"I didn'tdoanything, and I'm not going to tell you. It's not about me—it's about him, so I don't have to, right?"
"Fine."
"I've got that check for you when you're ready," the server says.
Before she can set it down, Dax pulls a $100 bill from his wallet and hands it to her. "Keep the change."
"Thank you." She smiles and squeezes his arm before leaving the table. She's been flirting with him the whole time, and I know I'm not with him and don't want to be, but she doesn't know that.
Dax picks up the receipt, and I can see it etched into the paper—her phone number. He folds it and stuffs it into his wallet.
I shake my head. "Everything about you is annoying."
"Thank you," he says. "Your car is done. You ready to go?"
"Yeah. I still need to get to the bookstore before it closes."
I grab one more fry and then leave the booth after Dax, who waits for me to catch up and then slips an arm around my waist.
People stare. And I know they're staring at him, but still, I can't help but think everyone who looks at us knows what we did. I shrug him off, and he grabs my hand instead, lacing his fingers with mine.
"Do you want some coffee or something?" he asks as we step outside.
"No."
"Do you want a Xanax?"
"Do you have some?"
He shrugs. "Maybe. Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay. How could I be okay? How areyouokay? Don't you care at all?"
"About him? Nah, not really. He wasn't a good person. You need to forget about it, Saige. It's just…something that happened. And now it's over. Tomorrow, something else will happen."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm scared! And I keep thinking about him. I know you said he was bad, but…I don't think he deserved it. And he had to have people who cared about him. Maybe that's who did this—maybe they'll do it to me, too."
"Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm sure this was all just some kind of fucked up coincidence, okay? And I took care of it for you. It's over."
"Yeah…" I say, but it's pretty hard to swallow. "Yeah, maybe."
"There's our car," he says, pointing to a black SUV at the end of the block. Dax opens the back door, and I climb in first, turning toward the window, watching the water out the window as we pass.
