Page 8 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

I swallow, wiping my mouth on my napkin. “It’s fine, Maya. This isn’t the first time River’s made her feelings for me clear.”

“You can say that again.” Lucy, my building manager who totally loves me, backs me up without ever glancing away from her crossword book.

To my surprise, River’s cheeks turn a deep red. I didn’t think anything embarrassed her.

“Ignore my best friend.”

Maya glares at River, who shrugs.

“I said what I said.” She crosses her arms defiantly. “I hate him.”

“She’s just mad because I scored the last piece of cherry pie.”

“Scored it? SCORED IT?” She inhales sharply. “You mean you swindled a gullible kid for it.”

“Hey! I’m not gullible!”

“Oh, you’re not?” River turns to Sam. “Then tell me what he told you to get you to switch acherryslice for ablackberryone.”

“He said he saw one of the servers touch itaftershe picked her nose. I didn’t think you’d want to eat booger pie, Aunt River. I did it for you.” He smiles proudly at himself.

Shit, this kid is too easy. I told him last week that it was illegal to eat cherry pie on that particular Sunday. He was scared River would get arrested and begged me to eat it myself.

Fool.

“You didn’t think to question him when he then ordered booger pie for himself?”

I cut in. “I ordered everything at once. I didn’t bring up the boogers until we were on our way over here with the goods.”

“I have so many questions…” She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out where this is heading.

“Hit me with them. I’m a teacher—I get asked stupid questions all the time.”

“You said there’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Sam tilts his head, staring at me accusingly.

“And I totally meant that for you, Sam. You never ask me stupid questions.”

“Oh crap. My kidisgullible,” Maya whispers, horrified.

I try not to laugh and give River my attention. “Well?”

“Youpaid for breakfast?”

“I always pay for breakfast.”

“You do not! Maya and I rotate. One week it’s me, then the next it’s her. Always. We’ve never not done that. We…”

Her words die, and I’m sure it’s because she’s finally realizing that the mornings I’m here, there’s never a charge on her card.

We might be enemies, but I was raised with manners.

Besides, I’m a little afraid my mom’s My Kid is Being a Shithead senses would tingle, and she’d whoop my ass if I weren’t doing the gentlemanly thing by paying for breakfast.

“You… You…”

“Me, me, what?” I mock. “Were you going to say I’m a kind, sweet, insanely attractive man? Because I know you weren’t about to call me an ass.”

I swipe an M&M from her stash and toss it into my mouth, grinning.

---