I leaned against the counter. “We’re starving.”
She clicked her tongue. “Mm-hmm. Starving, huh? Or just dramatic?”
“Both,” I said.
She laughed, deep and rich, like Sunday morning gospel. “What we celebrating? Y’all look like you done spent somebody’s money.”
Maria’s hand drifted instinctively to her belly. “We found our prom dresses.”
“Well now,” she said, eyes softening as she looked Maria up and down like she could see the gown through denim and cotton. “Ain’t nothing wrong with a girl feeling beautiful. Baby or no baby.” Her gaze slid to me. “And you? You finally pick something that don’t look like you fixing to start a revolution?”
I raised an eyebrow. “No promises.”
She smirked. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
I rattled off our order and she scribbled it down. Grabbing our drinks and a little #8 sign, we made our way to the table and I said, “I dunno, I just…” I looked at my friend, her open and kind eyes. I knew she wouldn’t judge me but still I hesitated, “Big truth?” It was something we had gotten into the habit of asking before laying down something ugly, like our way of saying “brace for impact”.
She nodded. “Hit me.”
“I want to feel normal. Act normal. I see the way you and Diego are, and a part of me wants that. But there’s also a part of me that remembers what it feels like to be touched without my permission. My brain hasn’t quite gotten the memo that it’s safe. And anytime a guy looks at me or brushes up against me, I just can’t breathe. Everything in me yanks on the emergency brake. Being used like that…it made everything real, feel unsafe.”
Maria’s lower lip wobbled. “It’ll get better.”
I offered her a thin smile. “I sure hope so.” I wasn’t really quite ready to believe that.
A waitress walked over with our food and about two seconds later, Diego and Jackson walked over. Maria wiped at her eyes, banishing any tears that might have been there and gave Diego a huge smile. His neck turned crimson as he pulled up a chair beside her. He stole a fry, then whispered something in her ear that had her blushing too.
Jackson wouldn’t meet either of our eyes as he sat at the end of the table. I glanced between him and my chicken wrap. Had he heard any of that? God, I hope not. Finally, he looked up and his eyes met mine. A shudder ran through me at the steely gaze. The rage in his gray eyes. What the fuck? I frowned at him but he just shook his head and suddenly pushed back from the table and made his way over to the counter. I watched him go but my attention was pulled from him by a hand clasping on my shoulder and I jerked from the sudden grip, frowning at the intrusion.
“Well if it isn’t Mamacita and Malibu, the prettiest and deadliest duo this side of the Mason-Dixon.” Dalton’s smile was broad and unwavering, even under the weight of the three frowns that were now aimed in his direction.
“Dude, shut up before you get stabbed with a fork.” Mac rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics before heading to join Jackson at the counter. I hadn’t hung out with Mac too much. He had already graduated by the time I got to Redwood, but the times I had met him, I had been struck by just how similar he and his father were.
Unfazed, Dalton pulled up a chair beside me and asked, “So, how was shopping? Find what you wanted?”
Maria nodded eagerly, “Oh yeah, it only took me ten years but we found the perfect dresses.”
“Whatever you wear will be perfect.” Diego winked at Maria. She blushed again and Dalton feigned gagging while I hid a smile behind my drink. Jackson and Mac rejoined us a minute later with little numbers of their own.
The table dissolved into easy banter. When Momma Laverne came over with a basket of fries and an extra side of ranch no one had ordered, Dalton fixed her with a charming grin and I swear she rolled her eyes so hard they almost clattered on the tile.
“Boy, if you grin at me like that again, I’m telling your mama,” she said, setting the basket down with a thump.
Dalton pressed a hand to his chest. “Momma Laverne, I would never.”
“Mm-hmm. You’re a damn playah.” She turned to Mac. “And you. Quit letting him talk before he thinks. You the older one.”
Mac smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shifted her gaze to Jackson, who was still pretending I didn’t exist. Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “And you,” she said, tapping the table near him. “If you keep scowling like that, you gonna scare my paying customers.”
Jackson blinked. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Don’t apologize. Fix it.”
Dalton snorted. Diego excused himself, and Mama Laverne’s eyes tracked him like she already knew something was about to go down.
She leaned in just slightly toward Maria. “You eating enough, baby?”
