“I’ll work on it,” I said.
“You have no intention of working on it, do you?”
“I’ll start by curbing the use of your name.”
“Try Eli,” he said. “Maybe one less syllable will help.”
I laughed again just as my phone started vibrating in my hand. The smile slid off my face as an image of my mom leaptinto my mind, helpless in her bed. I quickly raised my phone to answer it when I saw it was just the timer going off.
I clicked the Stop button and held the phone in his direction.
“Looks like the best part of your day is over,” he said.
A voice behind us said, “Have you knocked? Is someone actually in there?”
I turned to see a middle-aged woman standing there. She pointed to the closed bathroom door.
“Oh,” I said. “We’re not waiting in line. It’s free.”
“You could’ve said so,” she grumbled, walking past us.
“How long had she been there?” I asked Elijah. He’d been the one facing the restaurant in our exercise.
“I have no idea,” he said. “I didn’t see her.”
I lowered my brow. “Really?”
“I only have eyes for you, apparently,” he said with a wink.
I groaned at the terrible joke and spun around to walk back to the table. Elijah just chuckled and followed after me.
“Did you have a quickie in the bathroom?” Michael asked when we were back.
“Ew,” I said. “Definitely not.”
“Ew?” Elijah asked as we sat down.
“A public bathroom?” I said. “Yes, a millionews.”
“So you weren’t repulsed by the thought of my brother in said bathroom?” Michael asked.
“I wasewing the bathroom, but I will extend theewto your brother.”
Michael laughed and Elijah bumped his shoulder into mine as if I’d been teasing.
“You’ve never done it in a public bathroom?” Tara asked.
“No, and I don’t want to know if you have,” I said.
She and Michael met each other’s eyes and then sputtered out a laugh.
“What about an airplane bathroom?” Elijah asked, his brows furrowed as if this was a serious question. One that would give him all the insights into me and my life and my personality.
“An airplane bathroom?” I asked. “Those things are tiny. And public. Not only public, but you can’t just walk away from the people who saw you go in. Who know what you did.” I studied his expression. Had he done it in an airplane bathroom? That actually told me a lot about him. That he didn’t care about others’ time or needs, that he didn’t follow rules, that he was driven by impulses or status or bragging rights. Like I’d thought: a frat boy.
“What’s your aversion to public places?” he asked.
“Mainly the germs,” I said, “but also the public part.”
