Page 31 of True Blue

“Oh my god, Janette!” My head snaps up at the sound of my name being called. Cassie sits at the corner of a hibachi table, waving frantically at me. Bentley sits beside her, eyes wide and mouth open as we take each other in. My heart stops as the waitress walks us right over to the pair and places our menus down in the two open seats right next to Cassie and Bentley. We’re basically kiddie-cornered next to each other with Cassie to my left.

“Hey, guys.” I mumble, keeping my eyes on her.

She jumps in her seat and claps. “What a coincidence you’re here! Isn’t this place so nice? When Bent told me where we were going, I figured we wouldn’t run into anyone from school.” She beams, clinging to Bentley’s arm as she speaks. I sit down in the chair next to her, Christopher already settled into the other and investigating the menu intensely.

“Seems he might have wanted it that way,” I murmur, picking up my menu and feeling bad for the comment the moment I say it. The hostess asks which meat each of us wantand we order. She nods after writing it down before rushing off to get our drinks.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Cassie asks, leaning onto her palm on the table.

I go to answer, but Christopher drops his menu and reaches across me, extending his hand to her. “Christopher Phillipe Tonkins.” He flashes his teeth as they shake hands, Cassie leaning back. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she says, a little more subdued than before.

A man in a tall chef's hat walks up to the grill between us, rolling a cart of bowls and sauces into the little cooking area. He smiles at all of us and asks how we’re doing before pulling out two large knives and starting to swipe them together. Cassie claps when he squirts a clear liquid across the grill and then lights it on fire, using a large spatula to spread it around. Christopher leans back from the heat, placing his arm around the back of my chair.

The hostess returns with our drinks, and I take a sip from my straw, eyes lingering over to Bentley on accident. He stares ahead, jaw set and eyes hard as he watches the start of the show. I dart my eyes away, looking back as the chef reads off his list and checks that he has the right meat for everyone on the three sides of the table.

Tossing shrimp and chicken onto the hot grill, he places a peeled zucchini down next, chopping it at lightning-fast speeds into equally sized cubes. He nods to the guy on the end of the table across from us, setting a cube on the end of his spatula and slinging it toward him as he moves to catch it in his mouth. The guy succeeds and we all clap, the routine continuing down the line before crossing over to the side of the table Bentley and Cassie sit at.

The two beside them catch their pieces, the woman next to Bentley using her hand under her chin to help as they both laugh.

Bentley’s up next and nods to the chef when they make eye contact. The zucchini flies and Bentley doesn’t move an inch as it falls in an arch right onto his tongue. He chews it twice before swallowing, my eyes lingering on the bob of his throat before he turns and looks directly at me. I look away, watching Cassie flail to catch her piece, narrowly grabbing it after it hits her nose. She laughs, cheeks heating as she looks over at Bentley.

He chuckles. “You’ve got a little oil,” he says, leaning in to swipe the tip of her nose. She freezes, eyes falling wider as she stares at his hand. He looks over at me before smirking and then staring down at her as he sucks his finger into his mouth and brings it out clean.

Cassie giggles, eyes still locked on him.

My stomach turns, the embers of the fire he stoked in the library flaring back to life.

And then I hear Cassie say, “Holy shit. I still can’t believe I’m actually on a date with theBentley Marshall.” She squeals and I watch a little bit of the light die in Bentley’s eyes. He smiles though before facing forward again.

I turn back toward the chef, realizing it’s my turn next. I gulp, nodding after he sets up the cube on his spatula, nerves sparking up my spine. He flicks the cube into the air, and I follow it with my eyes, moving my open mouth to where I think it will land. It bounces off my forehead, falling to the floor and a round of awwws go off around me. The tops of my ears heat at the sound of a low laugh from beside me though.

Christopher holds his stomach, shoulders shaking as I lower my head and glare at him. “Babe, you weren’t even close!” He pats my shoulder, still laughing as he turns toward the chef for his turn.

I stare at the side of his face, Layla’s words drifting back to me, and feel the nerves from earlier crest and crash into a wave of anger in my chest. I scoot my chair back, three pairs of eyes falling on me as I stand. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I fast walk away from the table, fists swinging by my thighs.

I bypass the ladies’ room, pushing the black heavy door beside it with NOT AN EXIT written across in white paint. The grey sky greets me, and no alarm goes off as I let the door close behind. A blue dumpster sits on one side of the back parking lot area I find myself in, the brick wall behind it belonging to the part of the restaurant that wraps around to form an L shape.

I fly down the steps and away from the door. Digging my nails into my palms and holding them out in front of me, I grind my teeth, seeing Bentley’s smirk as he sucked the oil from his finger for Cassie. Hearing Christopher’s laughter ring in my ears. Feeling my mom’s looming reach touching even this.

It all bubbles up, every frustration I’ve ever had coming to a head and pushing to get out. Every shackle I’ve worn since the day Dad died tightening around me. The burning in my chest moves outward to the very surface of my skin and I open my mouth to try to breathe. A scream escapes my throat, and I lean into it, screaming at the ground and shaking violently. When I can no longer push any more air from my lungs, I gulp in the clean cold air, reeling back and feeling a surge of euphoria. The burning pit is now empty and the space to finally breathe feels amazing.

Panting and smiling, I register the sound of a slow clap behind me.

Swiveling around, I glare at Bentley, the smile dropping off my face. He stands on the top step in front of the now fully closed door. His eyes gleam, a fiery look in their hazel depths.

“Nice show,” he drawls, gesturing to me. “I’m surprised you didn’t stamp your little foot like a brat.”

I drop my hands to my sides, fists re-clenched. Fire licks up my spine at his words, but my chest still feels blissfully free. “Go away,” I grit out.

He snorts, eyes studying my face. “Chris seems great. Real winner you got there.” He smirks, but there’s bite in his eyes with every step he takes down the stairs to reach ground level with me.

“Shut. Up,” I hiss, needing him to go away. Needing him not to see me raging in this alley right now.

“No, I think you guys make a great pair. Really,” he sneers and steps toward me with every venom laced word. We stand practically chest to chest, glaring at one another, and he leans down closer to me. “Perfectly. Matched.” Each word is punctuated by the snap of his jaw. I focus on the movement, feeling heat press in against me.

“Well, I think you and Cassie make an amazing couple,” I spit out. “You seem to be loving all theattention.” I widen my eyes and mimic Cassie’s higher voice, batting my eyelashes as I say, “I still can’t believe I’m actually on a date withtheBentley Marshall!” Rolling my eyes, I still catch the flash in Bentley’s hazel depths. “Got to love the perks of everyone knowingMommy and Daddy.”

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