“Honey for me,honey,” Britta said, pursing her lips into a silky smile.
Shaking the spice over the oats, Xavier flashed Britta a white, toothy grin. “Anything for you, Brit. Speaking of, you should have gotten here earlier; we had eggs again.”
“Dammit, Xavi!” Britta growled. “Shouldn’t a’ told me—can’t miss what ya don’t know.”
There’d been fresh eggs for breakfast every morning up until three days ago, when a fox had dug its way under the wall in the dead of night and murdered half the chickens. The hens that had survived had been so traumatized by the attack, they’d only just started producing eggs again. I wished there was some way to let those poor chickens know that Joshua had caught and killed that fox—providing us with fox stew that very evening. Maybe then they’d sleep a little easier and resume laying eggs on a daily basis again.
“Grab your fruit and move along, ladies,” Betsey ordered us with a frown, her many lip lines deepening. “Line’s getting backed up.”
Britta saluted her. “Yes, ma’am—right away, ma’am.”
While Betsey tsked our departure, we hurried to our usual table, where Ella was sitting alone. Sliding onto the bench opposite Britta, I stuck my spoon in my oatmeal and left it there. Britta’s comments about Logan were a twister in my gut, having swept away my appetite.
“’Mornin’, Willow; ‘mornin’, Brit.” Dropping his tray of food on the table, Jordy slid onto the bench beside me. “I heard we missed the eggs,” he said, nudging my arm with his elbow. “Got stuck with the slop again.”
“Food is food,” EJ said, taking the seat beside Britta.
“Yes,” Cassie agreed, dropping down beside Ella. “Be thankful you have some.”
“Oh, I’m thankful, alright,” Jordy replied. “I’m thankful Betsey’s always sneaking me an extra helping.” He patted his bare stomach. “I’m a growin’ boy, you know?”
Britta snorted. “You grow any taller and you’ll be a skyscraper.”
“All the better to climb, though, amirite?” Jordy flashed a sly smile around the table.
“Yeah, that’s gross,” Ella snapped, making a face. “Super fucking gross, Jordy.”
Jordy smirked, unconcerned, and gave Ella a long, lingering look. Snarling, Ella flipped him off with both hands that resulted in Jordy throwing his head back with hearty laughter.
Britta banged her spoon on the table. “Did y’all hear—Willow’s comin’ to Jimmy and Maria’s shindig.”
“Yeah?” Jordy nudged me again—something he’d been doing with increased frequency lately. A nudge here. A hand there. A grin every time he saw me. “That’s awesome—you’ll have to save me a dance.”
I flushed again, this time due to the intense way Jordy was looking at me—directly into my eyes, as if he were trying to silently convey something. Something I absolutely did not want to know. Unable to hold his gaze for another uncomfortable second, I resumed poking my oatmeal.
“I don’t really know any dances,” I muttered. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Lucas and I had danced all the time, but never the sort of structured dancing that went on at formal events. Rebels without a cause, we’d always danced to the beat of our own drum.
“Hell, Willow—it ain’t like it’s hard,” Britta spoke around a mouthful of food. “You just throw your arms around and shake ya ass. The real issue is what we’re gonna wear. I got nothin’ but ratty jeans and leather.”
“Does it matter?” I asked. “I mean, given the circumstances, are we expected to dress up?”
I hadn’t given any thought about what I might wear to the wedding, figuring it didn’t matter. Everyone in camp dressed mostly the same, usually in work-appropriate clothing that was sweat-stained, full of holes and half patched together.
“I’m sure some will dress up,” Cassie said. “But nobody will make a fuss if you don’t.”
“Literally nobody,” Ella added. “Maria doesn’t even have a wedding dress to wear.”
“Hell nah. Nu-uh, no way, no how!” Britta thumped her fist on the table. “We are dressin’ up for sure. Willow, when was the last time you dressed up?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking back through the years. “Homecoming dance my freshman year, I think?”
Britta shot Cassie a pointed look. “We can’t let that stand, Cass. You gotta give her the day off and lemme take her shoppin’. You wanna go shoppin’, dontcha, Will?”
Excitement stirred inside me, and I nodded enthusiastically. An adventure was exactly what I suddenly wanted—new clothing would just be the icing on the cake.
“I’m happy to give you the day off,” Cassie replied, smiling warmly at me. “We’re way ahead of schedule, thanks to you. But I don’t know what you think you’re going to find out there, Britta—pickings have been slim for a while. And you’ll need to run it by Leisel before you do anything.”
“Seems kinda risky to head out only for clothes.” Jordy frowned at me. “Is it just the two of you going?”
