Page 28 of On the Line

“You heard her,” I hear Ozzy drawl from behind, coming to stand next to me. He takes a casual bite of the chocolate bar, and for a beat, my mind blanks.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob on a swallow.

I can’t deny my skin heating up at the very sight.

Ozzy motions the Snickers bar toward the door. “She told you to leave, buddy.”

“Who the fuck areyou?” Zachary says in disdain as he stands up from his seat as if trying to intimidate him even though they’re both of similar builds, Zachary only having a few inches over Ozzy.

Ozzy doesn't move an inch. Quietly, he takes another bite of chocolate.

“I work here. You don’t, so skedaddle,” he finally answers, giving his hand a small flick. He takes a step toward Spencer who is now standing next to Zachary. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene now.”

It takes a few seconds for Zachary to finally move, hiseyes darting to mine. “You’ll regret this, Jamie,” he warns before turning for the door.

After years of these types of threats, I know that it’s not an empty one, but tonight I’ve lost the ability to care.

Spencer gives us one last dirty look before following his friend out. I cross my arms and say nothing as I watch them half stumble out of Orso.

There’s a long beat of silence.

And then.

“You taste better than I could’ve ever dreamed,” Ozzy whispers near my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. “I’ll make sure you lose to me more often.”

11

JAMES

“James Elizabeth Ferdinand, you better wake up right this second.”

My head pops up from being buried face-first into the pillow. My eyelids pitifully peel open, dry from drinking till the early morning hours with Michelle and Quinn at Stanley’s.

It takes me a few lagging moments to realize whose voice just woke me up.

Until she speaks again.

“James, did you hear me?”

My heart sinks and speeds up in the span of a strangled gasp. I roll over and scamper off the mattress. “Mom? What are you doing here?!” I shriek.

My first reaction is to half-heartedly try to flatten the wrinkles on the silk top I slept in as if that would lessen the curl of disdain on my mother’s lip, while she studies my bedroom. She looks painfully out of place here, holding her Givenchy sunglasses limply in her flawlessly manicured hand. Her white palazzo pants and topprobably cost more than everything in my bedroom combined.

Last I heard, she was still vacationing in France.

“The strange man you’re living with let me in,” she answers with a small sneer, still looking around the room. “Why don’t you have a bed frame?” she adds appalled.

Although I’ve been actively complaining about the same thing myself, I struggle not to get defensive.

“Yeah … well,” I say as I cross my arms. “Whose fault is that?”

Her green eyes snap back, blonde hair swishing over her shoulders as she shoots me a searing glare.

I hide a small wince.

“We gave youeverything,James,” she whispers heatedly, waving her hand around the room. “And you chosethis?”

I give her a deliberate eye-roll. “That’s a little melodramatic, even for you.”

---