Page 74 of Death is My BFF

The doors slid open. Neither of us moved. I could not breathe.

Prying my Converse off the ground, I forced myself to exit the elevator and hurried past him into the mayhem. Everything moved in slow motion, my mind whirling. By the time I looked back at the elevator, the doors were closed.

He had Death’s ringtone.

XIV

After seeing David, I took the train back to Pleasant Valley and met Marcy at our favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. Manuel’s was a hole-in-the-wall taco joint ten minutes from my house. If there were ever a cure for heartbreak, it was the guac at this restaurant.

The last thing I wanted was to be alone with all the emotional turmoil inside me. I explained that after I’d faked sick from school, I’d gone to the D&S Tower to talk to David again, and he’d broken things off.

“You protected me through all the stuff with Thomas, and now it’s time to return the favor,” Marcy said, as she fixed her makeup in a compact mirror. “If David D-bag Star has the audacity to cross paths with you again, he’s done for. Pretty Boy won’t know what hit him.” She shut the compact with a vicious snap and traded it for her wallet in her bright-orange Coach tote. “Think of me as the chastity belt between his little burrito and your taco. See what I did there?”

“Marcy, please,” I laughed out. “We’re in public.”

“Ugh, guys are slime,” she grumbled and fished for a twenty-dollar bill. “I’m sorry I keep yapping about this, but I’m justsomad!

My sweet best friend is hurting. If you ask me, David is the last man on this planet who deserves his last name. The only astronomical thing about him was his big bubbly ass in the tabloids a while back, and we all know howthatended up. A Photoshop sham.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Plenty of times, although I love myself enough for the both of us.” She shrugged self-importantly but in a joking way. “It’s a curse.”

Holding back another laugh, I stepped toward the girl behind the glass dome of toppings to create my order: three beef tacos with lettuce, tomato, cheese, sour cream, salsa, and a side of Manuel’s homemade chips and guac.

“I’ll have you know,” Marcy continued, once she was done placing her order, “I’m writing David aterriblereview on my fashion blog for his new men’s clothing line!” She took out her phone and viciously typed. “Aaand Send. Ha! Come on, girl, time to eat our feelings. Then we’ll kick it at your place and binge watch the rest of season three ofBuffy.”

I managed a smile. Sounded like a plan to me. Together, we walked to the soda station. I put some ice into my large cup and filled it to the brim with a little of each colorful soda. I called this creation the Sugar Splurge. Marcy made a face.

“What?” I asked, sipping the drink.

“I can’t believe you’re still doing that, loser.” We walked to our usual table. “Your metabolism is so unfair. If I drank these, I’d gain like twenty pounds. Not in my ass either, might I add.”

“Girl, don’t even start. Have you looked in the mirror? You’re the ultimate hottie tamale!” Sliding into a chair across from her, I immediately dunked a salted lime chip into the guac. “As for my drink, don’t knock it till you try it. This creation is legendary.”

“You’re a sugar maniac. Haven’t you been getting migraines?”

Tylenol—glory be—was my only relief from those recent killer stress migraines.

“Marcy, my life has gone to the dogs. Sugar is the least of my problems.” I took a big slurp of my drink. “Mmm, glucose.” I offered her the cup as if it were the Holy Grail. “Take a sip. You’re welcome.”

She gulped down a single swallow and choked a little. Her hazel eyes widened.

“I know,” I said cockily. “Evolutionary.”

“No,” she wheezed, pointing somewhere over my shoulder.

“Him.”

I spun around and my stomach plunged. David Star strolled into Manuel’s dressed like a king among peasants. He wore a Gucci number (which I only knew because of Marcy’s fashionista knowledge) paired with a leather jacket, which probably could have bought me a car that didn’t stutter and groan every time I killed the ignition, and a pair of black aviator sunglasses.

David’s granite features snapped in my direction. I quickly rotated back around.

“Kill me,” I said.

“How did he find you?” Marcy asked.

“I don’t know.”

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