Page 95 of Meet Me In The Dark
“Oh, the worst. Her crush held hands with another girl at recess today. Utter devastation.”
I let out a quiet chuckle. “Hope he survives the fallout.”
“Unlikely. She’s already plotting his demise.” She sets Levi down. “Go play while I finish dinner, buddy.”
He bolts toward the living room and drops to the floor in front of a mountain of Legos.
When Celeste straightens up, her hands smooth over her sweater as if she’s trying to regain her composure.
Her gaze flickers to me. Hesitation. Nerves. I file that away, because I like knowing I put them there.
I should say something to lighten the mood or do something to break the strange tension in the air.
But I don’t.
For some sick reason, I like it.
I love drawing a reaction from her, whatever that might be.
I like that I get under her skin, that she’s not sure what to do with me in her space.
I let the silence drag until she fidgets.
Until she has to break it. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“What are we having?”
She crosses her arms, her lips curling in amusement. “Dinosaur nuggets and fries.”
Slowly, I take off my coat, drape it over the back of the chair, and lower myself into the seat.
“How could I refuse that?”
∞∞∞
We’re almost done with dinner, and I still can’t believe I agreed to eat dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.
Celeste pushes her fries around her plate, lost in thought, as Levi pilots his last nugget through the air with engine sounds.
Across from us, Sasha—who’s been surgically attached to her tablet all dinner—finally peels off her headphones and sighs.
“You’re a boy,” she says, leveling me with her stare.
I freeze with a fry halfway to my mouth. “I am.”
“Boys are the worst.”
Celeste groans and sinks her face into her hands. “Sasha,” she mumbles, giving me an apologetic look through her fingers.
“It’s fine.” I lean forward, seriousness in my tone. “Why are we the worst?”
Without missing a beat, Sasha launches into the story of her playground romance.
“He held another girl’s hand, Julian! Then he told me that he still wanted to be friends. As if I could still be friends with that…with that…smelly boy.” Her nose scrunches in disgust.
“Sounds unforgivable.”
“Exactly!” she cries, satisfied someone understands her plight. “You must be nice.”
