"I don't get enough jalapeños ever," she says. "I like to eat them straight out of the jar. They're even better with pickled carrots. There's this restaurant on my old block that used to bring pickled carrots and jalapeños with corn tortillas to every table instead of chips and salsa. It was like…fucking heaven."
"Hey, guys."
Dax stands in front of our table in a white t-shirt with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looks hungover, which doesn't surprise me given the illegible texts he sent me around three in the morning. His curls are a mess, but he's one of those people who only look better the less put together they are.
It's like he's showcasing how good he can look without trying. I can't help but smile, feeling a little lighter in his presence. He has that effect on me.
But I also feel a little jealous. And that's new. That's a weird thing to feel about someone you're in love with.
"What are you doing here?" Saige asks.
But she's smiling when she says it. She's trying to hide it, and maybe Dax doesn't notice, but I do. I'm the kind of person who notices everything about other people's mannerisms, unfortunately. It used to be essential to my survival.
"I missed you guys," he says. "And I track Nolan's location."
"It's givingstalker," I tell him.
"It kind of is, isn't it?" He slides into the booth next to Saige. "I've been doing some stalking lately, and I've got to be honest, I kind of enjoy it. It's thrilling. I'm still going to kill your stalker, though, baby; don't worry."
"Thanks," she says.
"How's it going? Were you nice to Nolan?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Mmm…I don't know. Because you're sassy. And you like to push people's buttons," he says. "Did she push your buttons?"
"Only the good ones."
She smiles—just a little bit—before biting her lip to hide it again.
"Really?" he asks, raising an eyebrow before turning to Saige. "Okay, what's going on with the hoodie and the sunglasses, Ripley?"
I answer for her while she chews her bagel. "She's humiliated at the thought of being seen with usin public."
"Nuh-uh," Dax says.
Saige nods. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Wow. I've never been on the receiving end of such sentiment before," Dax says. "I'm not going to lie—it's not a good feeling."
"It is what it is."
"It'smeanis what it is. It's hurtful. Don't you think it's hurtful, Nolan?"
"It's not ideal," I answer.
"And you just said you were nice to him, brat." Dax rips her sunglasses off her face, kissing her on the lips before she buries her face in his shoulder.
"Stop!"
He responds by pulling her hood down, hugging her against his chest while kissing the top of her head. "Hey, everyone, Saige Ripley is here! Now they all know your true identity, Saige," he jokes. "Oh, the horror! What are you going to do now?"
"The horrors persist, but so do I," she says, laughing as she struggles against him.
But she's happy. She likes him.
Eventually, she stops fighting him and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him.
