Page 57 of Strelitzias in Spring

I don’t have ownership or possession over Serena; she has the autonomy and self-governance to do what she wants with her body, when she wants, and with whom. We fucked one time—singular. I’m going to fix the flying dicks on her back and resign myself to awkward run-ins for the rest of my life since she’s become one of Celeste’s close friends. But I don’t have any claim over her. I tell myself I don’t want one, either, though it feels like a lie.

However, something sets me on edge as I see them; he looks too clean, too nice, too straight-edge for me to take seriously. He’s probably a perfectly nice, respectable guy, earning a business degree to work as a recruiter or outside sales consultant.

Needless to say, I fucking hate him.

Serena’s eyes remain downcast, not noticing me at the bar or the scene across the room, where Celeste and Ava practically stand up on the bench seat to get a better look at their friend on a date. Serena slides into the booth, conveniently facing my direction, and I see the surprise on her face when the idiot slides in next to her, nudging her body over until she’s plastered against the wall.

“The fuck—”

“Here you go. Do you need ketchup or anything?” Lance places my burger in front of me, sliding it until it’s nearly falling from the bar. I catch the plate and shake my head, silently dismissing him so that I can see what happens next.

Just like with my cousin’s table, a waiter materializes and grabs the guy’s ID, while Serena offers a tight smile and a shake of her head. I get that if you’re in a committed relationship, maybe you bring your not-yet-twenty-one-year-old partner to a bar so that you can enjoy a drink. But on what appears to be a first, maybe second date? What’s he going to do, get trashed and make her DD home? Fucking tool.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m across the dining area and standing in front of my cousin’s table, arms crossed and scowl stamped on my face. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Ah shit, here we go,” I hear Dante mumble, taking a sip of his beer as he eyes my cousin warily.

“Get down, you oversized giant,” my cousin hisses, grabbing my arm and pulling me with her surprising strength into the booth next to her.

“Celeste, what the hell are you doing? Let go of my arm.”

“Stop calling attention to us. We’re here to make sure that Serena’s date with Jack goes okay.” Of course, his name is an all-American boy name.

“You called attention to us the minute you walked into this bar with Dollar Tree wigs on. Do you honestly think Serena hasn’t noticed you yet?”

“I told you the wigs were a bad idea, Ava.”

“In my defense, I ordered them from an online store that had significantly better pictures than what showed up. Besides, my soulless one, your hair stands out too much.”

Ava’s boyfriend scoffs. “Vixen, and you think purple hair isn’t going to stand out?”

“Shut up, Greyson.”

“Anyway,” Celeste says. “Why are you here? You never drink before a fight.”

“Kelly,” I mumble, the name containing all the explanation needed as to why I’m here.

“Or to check out Rena?” Dante asks, looking like a smug bastard as he levels me with a look. If he ever thought we’d be friends, he just ruined his chances by being a little shit-stirrer.

“No, you dick. How would I know Serena was going to be here or that you five would show up looking like you’re on the run from law enforcement? I wanted to drink a beer and eat my fucking burger in peace, but that’s been ruined.” I sound like I’m pouting, and part of me is. I was desperate for a low-key night to wallow in my memories from last weekend before I passed out for the night.

“Shhhh, I’m trying to read their lips.”

“What the fuck? Vixen, you brought binoculars?” I look over to see Ava holding up a child-size pair of binoculars like it’s the most normal thing in the world to have bird-watching equipment in a bar.

“What? Too obvious? I have these, too.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out opera glasses, holding them out for show-and-tell. “These are more inconspicuous.”

“Oh, good idea. Let me try them.” Celeste holds out her hand and grabs them, bringing them to her eyes like she’s watchingLes Misand not Serena’s interactions with some twat.

“Red, you think we could borrow those for later? It might be a good idea to get a closer look at—”

“Whatever you’re about to fucking say, don’t, or else I’ll have to kill you,” I warn, cutting off Dante’s words. “And you.” I turn to my cousin. “Give me those. You’re at a goddamn bar, not the ballet. Stay and make sure she’s safe, but don’t treat this like a goddamn sport.”

Celeste glares at me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts growling, based on the annoyance I read in her features. “You don’t get it, Wolf. Serena’s been hurt by people she trusted, and she was nervous to come tonight. We told her to cancel if she didn’t feel comfortable and offered to come here to wait until her date was over, just in case it didn’t go well, but she declined. Obviously, we didn’t listen. We’re here because we love her, and we want to make sure that this guy isn’t someone who will bring her any harm or treat her with disrespect.

“We know she can take care of herself, but…” She pauses, shrugging. “We just want to be sure. After what Dylan and Devin put her through this winter—one of the reasons why you went to that party to get her—we don’t want her to feel as though she’s alone if she needs help.”

“What did they do to her?” My voice is tense, and I don’t doubt that I have a murderous expression on my face, preparing for the worst.

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