The Beginning of Everything(30)

“So, funny story,” I said, “but Justin sent our food over to your table.”

“Who?” Charlotte asked blankly.

“Justin,” I repeated. “The guy behind the counter? He’s in our year at school.”

I couldn’t figure why she didn’t know who I meant. And then I realized that Charlotte had always done this—pretended not to know which classmate you were taking about, as though she was above remembering certain people.

“Oh.” Charlotte frowned, disinterested. “Well, whatever. You’re here now, so join us.”

“Yeah, dude, plenty of room. Pop a squat,” Evan said.

We hadn’t discussed it, but I knew the plan was to get our food and calculate the physics of which table was the farthest from this booth, that table being the optimal place to enjoy our dinner. But I couldn’t exactly refuse. Not after the way I’d blown everyone off without explanation ever since school started.

“Sounds good,” I said with a shrug, sliding into the booth.

I could feel Cassidy’s hand on my sleeve, as though she wanted me to know that she’d slide in first so I could take the end, but I gritted my teeth and scooted along the pleather seat, not wanting my old friends to see how useless I was.

“Where’s Jill?” I asked, unwrapping my food. I dumped half of the fries onto my tray and wordlessly passed Cassidy the little paper container, since we were sharing.

Charlotte watched me split the container of fries as though it meant something significant.

“She’s stuck doing some Student Government crap, I don’t even know. But it’ll give us a chance to know your new friend.” Charlotte’s smile dripped venom as she stirred the straw in her milk shake.

We all bit into our burgers. Three tables away, a kid too big for his high chair screamed for dessert while his parents calmly ate their food, ignoring him.

“Faulkner, you didn’t come to my party!” Jimmy accused.

“Yeah, sorry. How was it?”

“Connor MacLeary showed up wasted and tossed the keg into the pool.” Jimmy shrugged philosophically. “And my bitch-ass neighbor called the cops. We had to pretend it was a church barbecue.”

“That actually worked?” Toby asked, floored.

“No.” Jimmy took another bite of his burger.

“So, Cassie,” Charlotte said brightly, “Where did you move here from, again? Chino? Compton?”

Cassidy smiled at the insult, as though she found Charlotte extremely funny.

“San Francisco,” Cassidy said. “But I’ve lived all over the world, really. London, Zurich, even down in Louisiana for a couple of years.”

“Oh,” Charlotte’s face fell as she considered this. “I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.”

“Well, where does your class trip go?” Cassidy wanted to know.

We all looked at her blankly.

“You don’t have those?” Cassidy asked, disbelieving. “Seniors don’t go to Spain or somewhere to traipse through museums and churches for a week?”

I started laughing. “We go to Six Flags.”

“Good thing it’s not Disneyland,” Charlotte said sweetly, with a glance in Toby’s direction.

At this, Evan burst out laughing.

“Babe,” he spluttered, trying to get it under control, “you’re pure evil.”

“Whatever, you love it,” Charlotte retorted, touching her index finger to the tip of his nose. It was so adorable that I almost threw up all over my adorable pile of fries.

“So, has everyone studied for Mr. Anthony’s quiz?” I asked, hurriedly changing the subject without thinking.

“What quiz?” Jimmy asked nervously.

“AP Euro,” Cassidy said.

“Dude, none of us are in AP.” Evan chuckled, cramming a fistful of fries into his mouth.

“It’s senior year,” said Jimmy. “I’ve only got five classes, counting tennis.”

“Counting tennis, that takes balls,” Toby muttered.

Cassidy snorted, and I tried not to.

Evan reached over and snagged a handful of fries off Charlotte’s plate. She fake-pouted and slapped at his hand as he crammed them into his mouth, laughing.

“I’m hungry,” Evan said by way of apology. “Rocked it hard at practice this afternoon.”

“Hell yeah!” Jimmy affirmed. They bumped greasy fists over the napkin dispenser. Toby winced.

“So Ezra,” Charlotte said, “how come you’re not sitting with us at lunch anymore?”

All eyes were on me. I shrugged and took a pull of my drink, stalling. The family with the screaming kid left their trays and trash at the table as they got up.

“It’s, well . . .” I trailed off, unsure of how to answer.

Did she honestly want me to say it out loud? That it felt wrong for me to go back, like they only wanted me around out of some sense of residual pity? That they’d been lousy friends when I was in the hospital? That she’d cheated on me the night of the accident, and that, just a little bit, I blamed her for what had happened? That, if it came to it, I’d rather eat lunch on a cot in the nurse’s office than bear daily witness to Charlotte sitting on Evan’s lap?

Thankfully, Toby came to my rescue.