“You’re impossible to please.” I don’t appreciate his superior tone.
“Excuse me?” I straighten in my seat. “Who said that?”
“Marlow.” His top lip curls, and he settles back into his seat like he’s not giving up so easily—and like he forgot that he needs to “go potty.”
Marlow’s words from our conversation last night have felt like slivers in my fingertips all day, but now they feel more like needles. Or knives. They’re sharp, sticking right into the parts of myself that I never want to examine. My eyes feel hot. I don’t want a guy with silver mudflap women on his Crocs to seeme cry, and I guess I’m glad Adam wasn’t here to witness this, either.
I need to get away from here. I try to slide out of the booth smoothly, but the back of my legs stick to the pleather seat, making my exit loud and clumsy. “Good to meet you, Derek.” I wave, turning for the kitchen without a second glance.
I shove through the swinging kitchen door. “Marlow.”
“She left when she saw the headlights.” It looks like Marlow’s teenage brother, Brady, is helping Lola in the kitchen tonight. He snickers. “Those are straight chud.”
I take a deep breath through my nose. Marlow saw the headlights? No wonder she bolted. She should be ashamed of herself, especially if she said what Derek claims she said. I’m hoping there’s a good explanation for that.
My heart needs it. It hurts too much, otherwise.
There is no world where there’s an adequate explanation for the Crocs headlights, though. I run a hand down my face, catching my breath and getting my head back on straight.
“Can you box up my food to go, Brady? I’m the bacon cheeseburger at table twelve.”
He shrugs. “You got it.”
I have way too much time to think while Brady puts my dinner into a Styrofoam box and bags it up.
You’re impossible to please.
Get on with your life. Your brothers did.
That one stings worst of all.
By the time Brady hands my food to me, I snatch the plastic bag and shove through the turquoise doors into the dining room. I toss a twenty-dollar bill at Lola on my way out, dragging the back of my hand under my nose and avoiding eye contact with Derek’s shoe headlights.
When I push through the glass doors, I’m face to chest with a tall, dark figure.
I gasp, dropping my doggy bag on the sidewalk when I throw my hand over my heart. For a fraction of a second I think it’s Adam. My heart bangs a few times until I realize it's not him. I’d know this guy anywhere, though.
“Stevie?” Ike frowns, scooping up my bag and passing it to me. “Everything okay?”
I swallow away the last of my hurt feelings. “All good.” I’m just watery-eyed, running away from an atrocious date, and facing imperfections that I prefer to leave buried.All good.
I can tell he doesn’t buy it, but he’s also not going to pry. Ike and I have been friends for a long time, and he knows when to let things be.
“Hey, so ...” He runs his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m glad I ran into you. I didn’t want to get involved in this, but—”
“I truly can’t handle any more bad news right now, Ike.” I tip my face to the dark gray clouds, closing my eyes. Maybe Ikedoesn’tknow when to let things be.
“It’s only bad news if you look at it that way.”
When I open my eyes, Ike is grinning.
“What?” I demand.
“Your little bet came up at the town meeting the other night.” He wiggles his fingers at the wordslittle bet.
No. Way. “Are you serious?”
He nods. “It started with Muffie. She asked us to throw town resources behind ‘the official position of Cape Georgeana.’ Her words.” He rolls his eyes. “There is no official position. I mean, besides that everyone on the select board bet against you,” he says offhandedly. “And by resources, she had a list of bachelors for us to coerce into dating you.”