The Way You Make Me Feel(21)

“Whoa, really?” He walked over to us, the sign still held up high above his head. “Did Adrian go somewhere?”

Yep, going to let Rose handle this question. Ever the politician, she smiled and chirped, “Oh, no, he thought we were ready to try this on our own. You know, trial by fire and all!”

He threw his head back and laughed. Heartily. Like someone had told a joke, except no one had told a freaking joke.

Rose hopped out of the truck to walk up to him. As they talked, I rolled my eyes and put on my KoBra shirt and hat.

Then I heard an exclamation from Rose. “Wait a second, are you on Arcadia Prep’s debate team?” She was pointing at his T-shirt, which said, in a big nerd proclamation: ARCADIA PREP DEBATE. She grasped his upper arm in excitement.

I stuck my head out the window.

He dropped the sign and grasped both her arms. “Yeah! Wait, you’re that captain from—”

“Elysian High!”

And for some reason that elicited a huge bear hug from Hamlet. I felt a stirring of jealousy that startled me. Pardon, why was I jealous about this?

But watching the two of them lose their collective mind over recognizing each other from dorky-ass debate club definitely made me feel funny inside.

“You were so awesome at the semifinals this spring!” Hamlet said with both his hands held up in front of him in this bizarre way. I kept staring at him. Who or what was he reminding me of …

Rose giggled, and he looked at her with this toothy grin, his canines glinting again.

Canines.

Yeah, still reminded me of a Lab. His hands were held up in front of him, torso-height. Waiting for his treat.

Why did I find him attractive?

Watching the two of them wax poetic about debate club made me realize that I was being a total loser getting jealous purely because Rose was flirting with him. That was it.

I opened the order window and whistled sharply. “Rose! When you two debate dorks are done, maybe we could actually get to work?”

Rose glared at me, but Hamlet, of course, was unfazed. In fact, he trotted over to the truck. All that was missing was a Frisbee in his mouth. “Hey, Clara.” He fixed his big eyes on me, dark lashes contrasting sharply against his skin. “So you guys go to the same high school, right?”

I slammed the cashbox onto the counter. “Yup.”

“Not on debate team, though?”

“Literally would rather die.”

He guffawed. If dogs could laugh, their laugh of choice would be the guffaw. “So, what are you into, then?”

I looked at him, cocking my head a bit. “Why?” I could see Rose stalking toward us, clearly annoyed that Hamlet was talking to me.

“Why not?” And there was something so matter-of-fact and weirdly intimate about that, almost a challenge. Daring me to be earnest in my answer. It didn’t help that he was looking straight into my eyes with unnerving openness.

“I’m into walks on the beach, cupcakes, and kittens.”

He laughed again, that guffaw. His incredibly straight, white teeth gleaming. “You’re so funny.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back laughter and a cutting remark. Because, to be honest, I had no idea how to react. Who says that?

“No, but really. You don’t do anything?” he asked.

It was a rude question, but the way he asked it was so genuine. Or confused. Or something. And I felt like there was this giant spotlight on me that I wasn’t ready for. Nobody ever asked me what I did at school. I was the class clown. Good for a laugh, and the leader of my merrymen, Patrick and Felix. But in the truck, all of that felt little. Not important.

“We have a customer coming,” Rose said, shoving me away from the window.

I wiggled my fingers at Hamlet. “Bye.”

He blinked. “Bye!” Then he bounded over to his spot on the corner.

Rose glanced at me. “Looks like someone has a crush.”

I almost dropped the pitcher of water I was holding. “I don’t have a crush!”

She shook her head. “Who says I’m talking about you?”





CHAPTER 11

Somehow Rose and I managed to get through our entire first day without a single fight. There was an incident where I hit her head by accident and she hit me back, but that was fine. I could tell it was just instinct.

Also, we were both exhausted. Running that truck with just the two of us was no joke.

At the end of the day, we both lurched out of the truck, one of the commissary lights flickering on and off in the dark lot. Rose lifted her arms and stretched them above her head like a little ballerina cake topper.

I rubbed one of my Docs onto my bare leg, scratching a mosquito bite I’d somehow acquired while inside the truck for eight hours. “Maybe since we didn’t kill each other today, my dad will come back tomorrow.”

Rose pulled out her phone, not even looking at me, the light of the screen making her face glow eerily. “Yeah.”

All right, then. I gritted my teeth and was about to start my walk home but stopped when I saw a couple of guys walk by—shrouded in shadow, walking slowly, appraising us as they did so. I stared at them. I see you. And they kept walking. When one of them looked back at me, I kept my gaze steady. Creeps.

I sighed and turned around. “Do you have a ride home?”