Page 33 of Coastal Reflections

“Um, hey.” She swallowed. “What’s up?”

“I’m here for a to-go order, and it turns out it’s not ready yet. So I’m just waiting, killing time, and there appears to be nowhere else to sit. Would you mind if I occupied the opposite side of this booth?”

Michelle wanted to retort that she did in fact mind very much, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “You know there are in fact other tables available,” she said, smirking a little. “I can see at least four available tables from here.”

Theo cleared his throat. “Oh, tables, sure. But not booths. I need a booth. As a matter of fact, this very booth is my favorite, and you stole it. So I think I’m just going to have to steal half of it back. It’s only fair, you know.”

Michelle wrinkled her nose at him. He was being ridiculous, but that was on brand for Theo. She thought of all the times he’d come up with other silly excuses like that, during all the times he’d shown up randomly at places where she was and then pretended as though he had a real reason to be there besides bumping into her.

She rolled her eyes, determined to keep up appearances and pretend to be irritated with him. “I can’t argue with logic that flawed. You can sit if you’re going to sit.”

Theo grinned and swung into the seat opposite hers. “You going to eat all your fries?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied indignantly even though she wasn’t planning on eating all of them. She usually brought some fries home as leftovers and then didn’t want to eat them after they’d been refrigerated because they just weren’t the same even if she heated them up again.

“Just one?” Theo wheedled. “I’m really hungry.” As if on cue, his stomach growled so loudly that a woman sitting at the opposite table glanced curiously in their direction.

Michelle tried hard to repress a giggle and didn’t quite manage it. “Ugh, fine. Just one.”

“Yay.” Theo grabbed a fry, dunked it in Michelle’s ketchup dish, and plopped it in his mouth.

Michelle knew she needed to say something or she was going to start laughing again. Although she wanted to appear disinterested, the only question she could think of to ask him had to do with his music. “How are practices going with your band?” she asked primly.

“Really well.” Theo’s eyes lit up, and she didn’t know if it was because he loved talking about his band or because he was excited she’d asked about them. “I’ve even tried my hand at a bit of songwriting.”

Michelle picked up her sandwich and nibbled it, not knowing what to say. Finally, she said, “Yeah?”

Theo nodded, looking pleased. “Yeah. I’m going to play one of my original songs at our next performance at The Brick Oven. It’ll be great. It’ll be so great I think you might actually end up being a little impressed.”

Michelle shrugged, fighting the realization that she very much wanted to hear Theo’s original song. “I don’t know what I have on the calendar. I’ll have to see if I can make it or not.”

Theo tilted his head to the side as he gazed at her curiously. A few beats passed before he said, “Michelle, can I ask you a question?”

She shrugged. “Ask away.”

“Do you remember how our rivalry started?”

She burst out laughing—she couldn’t help it. That was the last thing she’d expected him to ask. He’d sounded so serious, and here he was asking about what ridiculous antic he’d pulled as a child that had first made her vow to be his mortal enemy.

“I don’t remember at all,” she confessed. “My first clear memory of you is when you threw that cardboard monster you made at me and I screamed. But I know we were already rivals then, because I remember thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, not this joker again.’”

Theo let out a snort laugh. “I remember that monster. One of my finest pieces of work. That scream was one of your finest pieces of work too, by the way. I’m pretty sure you cracked a couple of ancient oak trees with that shriek.”

She made a face and swatted at him with her napkin. He dodged the blow dramatically even though her hand was nowhere near him. “Hey, that’s nothing compared to the squeal you let out when I put a fake frog in your lunchbox.”

He shook his head, grinning. “Your pranks were the best. You were always so quiet when I teased you, and I’d mistakenly come to the conclusion that you were mild-mannered. I remember at first, I didn’t even realize the pranks were you—I thought it was Tim Larson.”

“Psh, Tim Larson can’t hold a candle to me,” Michelle said. “He was a bully to everyone. I just bullied you.”

“Hey, it wasn’t bullying, it was a mutually agreed upon contract of consistent pranks and snarkiness.”

“See, that’s the thing, I’m pretty sure I never agreed to it.”

“Which leads me back to my question—how did it start?”

Michelle shook her head. “I have no idea. I don’t remember wondering if you were a nice kid or not—I just remember knowing that you were an absolute terror.” She threw her napkin at him. “And that hasn’t changed.”

He grinned. “I can’t remember either. It’s all a blur. I remember the first time I saw you, though. You were outside the Sutton mansion, playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. I remember I liked the shoes you were wearing—they were lime green.”