“Me too,” Mason agrees.
“Definitely.” Gregg slams to his feet.
“And me. Hell, that’s a whole helluva lot more than you and Captain Underpants, Dyers.” Joker jabs his fork in the air. “And everyone knows you two always have each other’s backs. They won’t listen this time, Dyers.”
That they are all standing behind Zach after him being on the team for such a short time says a lot about the type of jackass Dyers is.
“Are you trying to get me fired for not refereeing you animals?!” Lex wades into the chaos with a dose of normalcy. “Look at this mess!”
“Who you calling an animal, Lex?” Gregg jibes.
“Yeah, you’re right. Animals are smarter than your puck-shot brains,” she counters with a sassy flick of her fingers. “Now, Zach was here first,Derek—” Is it my imagination, or does she douse his name with ten tons of venom? “—so you can scoot along before Dopie calls the cops.”
That’s when I notice the owner and cook is frowning at us from the kitchen. “Do I need to come out there?”
“No, Dopie.” Zach earns himself an eye-roll from the massive guyout back. “I won’t charge for being the security guard your place needs.”
Dyers roars. “I didn’t start shit! You can’t expect me to be the one who leaves!”
“I supposeIstarted this, Dopie.” I bat my lashes at the older man. “But it’s not my fault he can’t handle a simple question. All I did was ask him if it was true about him having a small wiener. And with all this small-dick energy he’s giving off, I think we have our answer.”
A roar of laughter runs around the team as well as Lex and Dopie.Zach, chuckling louder than the others, uses that moment to shove Dyers back the way he came.
As he tumbles to the floor with a splat, Lex derides, “I can confirm that rumor, considering I had the misfortune of seeing it freshman year.”
Though her tone’s jeering, the distaste on her face is clear—regret. Big time.
He rolls around and jumps to his feet. When his hand soars in an arc, it’s clear he’s about to hit her. “Bitch!”
Dopie storms out of the kitchen, but not fast enough to beat Pecan, who snags a hold of the douche’s wrist and yanks it down.“I don’t think so.”
“Here was me thinking you had better taste than this asshole, Lex,” Gregg retorts with a leer.
“He called me a ‘fat cunt,’ Dopie—” I tell the diner owner the truth. “—and he went to hit me so Zachhadto defend me.”
Revulsion puckers the older man’s lips like he tasted something sour. “I hate men who hit women.”
“Same.” Zach’s shoulders bunch in agitation. Not even me pressing my hand to his back settles him any.
“Men are so unoriginal,” Lex jeers, staring at Dyers like he’s a dog turd someone walked into the diner. “Aren’t they, Denny?”
I study my nails. “Truer words.”
Dyers, kneeling nowamid the remains of breakfast, skidding on spilled egg yolks and syrup, turns to Alec when Dopie clearly isn’t siding with him. “Are you letting this happen?”
Alec swipes at some food that landed on his face. “What do you want me to do, Derek? I told you to keep your nose clean, so you come and cause trouble?” He flicks a hand at him. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“I don’t believe this.” Dyers finally gets to his feet, only to teeter before crashing back down again.
The whole diner laughs this time. It’s like canned laughter from ashow, only genuine as it races around the occupants like chlamydia in a frat house.
“Anything else like that happens again, Dyers. You so much as look at one of my servers in a way I don’t appreciate, you’re barred. Permanently.”
Flushed, outraged, and with zero defense from any quarter, Dyers gets to his feet. “Like this dump is the only place worth eating at on campus.”
“You’re the one in here every morning,” Dopie says calmly, which agitates the asshole even more.
Dyers storms off. But before he opens the door, he faces us.
