“Whatever you’ve got planned, count me in,” Pash announces. The two guys slap each other’s hands in agreement and then run off, presumably to spread the word that I’m going to execute some huge stunt.
I let them speculate, because the answer inside my head—that I’m trying to forget the way a girl makes me feel—would sound even worse if I gave voice to it.
Naturally, the first person I run into when I reach the cafeteria is Hartley. She walks by with a tray piled so high that I wonder if she’s getting food for another person in addition to herself. I scan the room suspiciously but see no one lurking around. Except for me. I’m the only Hartley Wright stalker. Which is how it should be.
“Need some help there?”
Her head shoots up and the tray tips dangerously in her hands. I grab it before the pasta, sandwich and three bananas fall to the floor.
“It’s fine, I can take it.” She moves to snatch the tray back, but I swing it out of her reach.
I spot Pash in line and yell to him. “Grab me the curry dish, would you?”
He gives me a thumbs-up. That task taken care of, I look for a place to sit. Usually, I sit with Ella, Val, and a few others, but I’m trying to avoid Ella and her prying eyes and nosy questions.
I spot an empty table near the corner that everyone avoids because the administration had this bright idea to plant trees in hopes of brightening up the place. Thing is, there was a bug infestation last semester, and the corner was filled with them. Now, everyone’s afraid to sit there. Hartley wasn’t here last year, so she won’t know this.
“Really, I can carry that,” she insists.
“I know.” I don’t stop until I reach the table. I set the tray down and pull a chair out for her. “But we’re best friends now and besties eat together. It’s the law. Look around.” I wave a hand around the room where all our classmates are grouped together in twos, threes and more. “We’re herd animals. We like to be together.”
She scratches some spot on her neck and eyes me warily. “I think I’m more of a loner.”
“Great. We’ll be alone together.” I tug my tie loose. I don’t mind the pants or even the blazer, but the tie we have to wear pisses me off.
“Here’s your lunch.” Pash appears at Hartley’s side and sets the tray on the table. “Why aren’t we sitting down? Is something wrong?” He gives me an alarmed look. “Wait, are the bugs back?”
“What bugs?” Hartley asks.
I slice my hand in front of my neck for Pash to ixnay on the bug shit, but he’s not paying attention. “I hated those freaking things. If whatever you’re planning deals with bugs, you’re on your own.”
He runs off before I can correct whatever misconceptions he’s cooked up. It’s better this way.
“What’s this about bugs?” Hartley repeats.
“Are you scared of them? I’ll kill them for you.”
“I can kill my own bugs, thank you very much.”
“Good. I hate them. I appoint you as the official bug killer. But don’t worry, this is a bug-free zone.” Or at least I hope it is.
Our asses barely hit our respective chairs when a cheery voice calls my name from across the dining hall.
“There you are, Easton!”
Every head in the vicinity swivels to watch Felicity sway over to my side.
“Thank you for saving me a seat,” she gushes.
When she leans down and kisses my cheek, a collective gasp silences the room, followed by a huge boom of chatter as the gossip machines crank into high gear. Damn it. Not this again. She’d texted me like a dozen more times last night, but I ignored every message. I’d hoped that if I kept ignoring her, she’d go away.
Obviously that was hoping for too much.
Across the table, Hartley’s mouth quivers as if she’s trying not to laugh. I’m suddenly glad I told her about Felicity’s crazy fake relationship idea, otherwise Felicity’s grand entrance might’ve freaked her out.
“I didn’t save you a seat.” I cross my arms and try to look as foreboding as possible.
Felicity’s hide is tougher than an armadillo’s. She trills an annoying laugh and drops next to me. “Of course you did.” She turns to Hartley. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Felicity Worthington.”
Hartley nods. “Hartley Wright.” She sticks out her hand and offers it to Felicity, who, like the bitch she is, proceeds to ignore it.
“I’m Easton’s girlfriend. We just started going out this weekend, isn’t that right?”
“Felicity,” I growl.
“What?” She blinks innocently. “I didn’t realize we were keeping it a secret.”
Biting my lower lip, I send a pleading look to Hartley. For the love of God, help me! Get me out of this!
Instead, the little witch does the opposite.
“Oh wow, I’m so happy for you guys!” Hartley exclaims. “New relationships are so much fun, aren’t they? Like, those first few weeks where everything is so shiny and perfect and you’re just all over each other? Isn’t that the best?”
It’s the most bubbly I’ve ever seen her. Too bad it’s fake.
She beams at me. I try to convey with my eyes that I am going to murder her after lunch.
“The best,” Felicity agrees, and to punctuate that, she scoots closer and rests her head on my shoulder.
I unceremoniously shift three inches to the right. Felicity topples over, nearly smacking her head on the side of the table before managing to regain her balance.
“You two look precious together. You should be in an ad. Oh, wait, I have an idea.” Hartley twists around and pretends to look for someone. “Who does the pictures for the yearbook? Your first lunch together should be commemorated.”
No one answers her. She shrugs and pulls out her phone. “How about I take a picture and when I come across the person in charge, I’ll send it to her.”
She aims the camera at us.
If it was acceptable to strangle a girl in the lunchroom, my hands would be around Hartley’s throat. Instead, Felicity decides to drop into my lap and I have to use my hands to push her aside.
“No pictures,” I growl.
Hartley pretends to think it over. “You’re right. You should have a professional photographer for your first picture. You can only have one first time.”
“You wanna die, don’t you,” I warn.
Felicity gives Hartley a patronizing smile. “I appreciate how you’re trying to cover your jealousy with this fake happiness, but be warned. Easton and I are a couple now. You’ll learn to accept it. In the meantime, if you want to feel sorry for someone, go console Claire.”
We all turn to see Claire two tables over, wearing an expression of utter despair. I grimace and shift away. Hartley’s glee slides off her face, too.
Felicity, on the other hand, can’t stop beaming. “Oh, there’s our new quarterback.” She waves a hand. “Bran! Bran. Over here.”
Bran waves back and wanders over to us. “Hey, thanks for the invite,” he says as he sets his tray opposite mine. “I wasn’t sure where to sit today.”
“There’s a football table.” I point my fork toward the two large groups of guys near the window.
“I see them every morning,” Bran says. “I think that’s enough togetherness, don’t you?”
It’s hard to say no since I hardly ever sit with them, either.
“This is nice,” Felicity announces. “What’s your family do, Bran?”
A confused expression crosses his face. “Ah, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“She wants to know where you fall on the ladder of capital success. In other words, whether you’re important enough to talk to,” I explain.
Felicity clucks her tongue. “That’s not true at all, Easton.” But she ruins her fake humility by repeating herself. “So what is it that your parents do?”
“My dad’s an accountant and my mom is a teacher at Bellfield Elementary.”
“Oh, well, that’s…” She flounders for an appropriate adjective, because in her mind, she’s appalled.