Page 87 of Victorious: Part I

He sinks back into his seat as I sing along to the words at the top of my lungs to spite him. But I don’t miss the way his lips turn up in the corner or his thumb subtly tapping on the steering wheel along to the beat. Plus, my girl, Chappell, is literally giving me the blueprint in this song to let go and do what you want.

I’m just having fun.

And I am glad that Phoenix is chill enough to let me be myself around him, even if he is desperately trying to pretend he hates these songs.

Iwillwear him down!

As I belt out “Azizam” by Ed Sheeran, we reach Peggy Sue’s, and my stomach starts growling. On the outside, the diner is everything I hoped it would be—a slice of nostalgia. The entrance is literally like a giant jukebox.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, finally turning down the radio as Phoenix pulls up the truck.

He turns off the ignition, and we both sit and stare for a moment. Finally, he breaks the silence. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be fed a peanut butter and jelly hamburger with extra meat, extra bacon, and cheese, served to me by Elvis?”

I snort out a laugh but nod in agreement. “Don’t forget the milkshake. There’sgotto be some kind of milkshake in there somewhere.”

He turns to me, his face completely serious. “And curly fries. With that super thick, yellow, cheesy sauce,” he says deadpan.

Nodding my head slightly, I try not to laugh. “Mmm, delicious,” I reply.

He inhales sharply, but a smile tugs at his lips before he can stop it, and then he bursts into laughter. The sound is like music to my ears—melodic, contagious—and it pulls me in until I’m laughing too. Soon, we’re both in fits of giggles in the front of the truck, each of us setting the other off in a cycle of laughter that only ends when we’re breathless and spent.

Phoenix glances across at me, relaxing his muscles. Then, surprisingly, his hand slides out, taking mine.

My eyes widen as I face him, giving him my full attention. “You okay?” I ask.

He slides his fingers through mine, truly joining our hands this time. My heart gallops at full speed. “Look, we don’t know what they’re going through back there, just like they don’t know what we’re going through. They willneverunderstand the emotional toll that our having to leave them has put on us. The only two people who willeverunderstand that is us.” I tighten my fingers around his, letting him know I completely understand. “So, I think every now and then, some manic laughter to get through is a completely sane way to cope.”

“You know what I think?” I reply.

He narrows his eyes on me. “Why do I feel like I will immediately regret it if I engage in this—”

“Do. You. Want. To. Know. What. I. Think?” I cut in.

He groans, rolling his eyes. “Fuck. Go on then, what do you think?” he drones.

Grinning, I slide off my seat belt and open the door, ready to hop out. “I think I want to meet Elvis and eat some ridiculously greasy food. You in, Presley?” I dish him out his own nickname.

He glares at me, but I can’t wipe the smile from my face as I jump out and move to the back of the truck to grab my bag. “Nope. We’re not doing that.”

Giggling under my breath as he starts to get out, I grab my bag, close the rear door, and start walking toward the diner’s entrance. “Doing what?” I call back, feigning innocence.

“The whole Elvis nickname thing. Not happening!”

As I reach the front door, I grin, turning back to him. “Why? HasReel Girlgot youall shook up?”

Phoenix groans, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Don’t engage, man. Don’t fucking engage.”

Laughing to myself, I push open the doors and step inside. My eyes widen in awe, and I can’t help it as I stop, taking it all in. Suddenly, a huge wall slams into me from behind. I gasp, letting out a small squeal as I start falling forward, but a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me against his body, while I grip onto my bag for dear life.

My breaths are frantic as his cologne invades my senses. I can’t help but close my eyes feeling so fucking safe and warm wrapped up in his arms. My pulse is frantic, and I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to control the way my body reacts. My clit begins to throb, being this close to Phoenix. I feeleverything.And instantly, my watch monitor starts to beep for the second time, breaking me from my veryinappropriatethoughts. My eyes snap open as I take a cautious step away from Phoenix, my cheeks flushing with heat as I rush to turn the stupid thing off.

Before either of us can say anything, a server steps up to us wearing her telltale turquoise and pink uniform. Her short, gray hair is trimmed tightly to her face, and the headwear to match the uniform sits neatly on top, completing the look. But it’s her kind face that sets me instantly at ease. “Well, hey there, lovebirds. Y’all want a table for two and some menus?” the server asks, a southern drawl to her tone.

“Oh no, we’re not,” we both reply in unison.

Again.

The server looks from me to Phoenix, then back to me, and tries to fight her grin. “Whatever you say. You still wanna table? Normally, folks can seat themselves, but I think you kids need a nice table.”

---