Nets and Lies(5)

He exhaled noisily. “Wow, that’s an interesting turn of events!”

I gave him a shy smile. “February break is coming up in a few weeks. We could go somewhere—somewhere nice.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. My heart seemed to slow to a crawl waiting his response. Then he grinned.

And I knew things couldn’t get much better.

Chapter Two: Jordan

I stared at the Budweiser clock hanging over the bar. Inside its worn hands lay the last shreds of my sanity. When the big hand finally, miraculously, inched over seven, I squealed with joy. I untied the apron from my waist and flung it under the counter. “It’s quitting time for me, losers.”

Marcus and Anthony laughed while my boss, Manny, glared at me. “Whatever. You just behave yourself tonight, and you sure as hell better be on time and not hung-over tomorrow!”

I spun on my heels and blew Manny a kiss. “Night Boss Man.”

“Smart ass,” he muttered under his breath.

I’d barely gotten out the door when a horn honked in the parking lot. My best friend, Tara, sat behind the wheel of a silver Mercedes bought with her Daddy’s guilt money while our other friend, Brandi, had claimed shotgun privileges.

“Hey bitches!” I exclaimed as I threw my stuff in the back.

“Hi slut. How were the sausages tonight?” Brandi asked with a grin.

I snorted. “Don’t ask.” Fiorenza’s might have been the best Italian restaurant in town, but they seemed to hire only perverted waiters who loved staring at my ass. “Gah working is such a drag. Not to mention, I’m never gonna get this linguini smell out without a shower.”

“Why don’t you drown yourself in body spray and see if it helps?” Tara suggested.

“I seriously doubt it,” I grumbled.

I tore off my work shirt and tossed on the floorboard. The icy winter air stung my chest as I dug in my bag for my clean shirt. The car next to us began honking. I glanced over to see a carload of sophomore boys. Hanging out of the windows, they whistled and gestured towards me. “Yeah, baby! Take it off! Wanna party tonight?”

Without a second thought, I raised my hand up and flipped them off. They roared with laughter and then peeled off when the light turned green.

“Dickheads.”

I pulled the shirt over my head and stretched it over last year’s Christmas present from my mom—my Double D implants. I nodded in satisfaction as the shirt fit me like a second skin. I caught Tara’s reflection in the mirror. “I’m so jealous. My parents said I couldn’t have implants until graduation.”

I snorted. “Yeah, well, if your mom was as flat as my mom used to be, she would probably give in quicker.”

“So who are you scamming on tonight?” Brandi asked.

“No one in particular. You?”

When Brandi didn’t respond,  Tara sighed. “Give it up, Brandi. He has a girlfriend.”

I slid my Nikes off and glanced at the front seat. “Who has a girlfriend?”

Brandi pinched her lips together and stared out the window. “Hello?” I asked again as I unbuttoned my pants.

“Will Thompson,” Tara replied for Brandi.

I groaned. “Come on, not Thompson. He and Golden Goddess have been dating forever.”

“I hear she’s still a virgin,” Brandi countered, as if that one technicality meant Will was a stud in play.

Crumpling my khakis into the bag, I began wiggling my jeans over my hips. “It doesn’t matter if she’s a virgin or not. He’s crazy about her, and she’s obviously doing some kinda of action to keep him interested. Give it up and move on. There’s got to be somebody else there you’d like to date.”

“At least I wanna date high school guys,” she muttered under her breath.

I flung my head up, tossing my dark hair out of my face. “What did you say?”

Tara glanced from me to Brandi. Her expression silently pleaded for a change in the conversation. Brandi ignored her and turned in her seat to glare at me. “Don’t act all innocent, Jordan. I know you’ve got the hots for Coach T.”

I stiffened at the sound of his name. He was the unmentionable—the thoughts I acknowledged only to myself and once in a drunken sob story to Tara. By her wide eyes in the rear view mirror, I knew she hadn’t blabbed to Brandi.

I flicked my hair. “So what if I think he’s hot?”

Brandi shook his head. “He’s a married man, and he’s a teacher!”

“So?”

Her eyes widened. “All you can say is so?”

“We’re seniors. I’m eighteen, and we’ll be graduating in five months. It’s not a big deal.”

“But he’s married.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s happy, or that he isn’t looking for someone to make him happy,” I retorted. I’d heard that line a million times from my mother. Most of the time, she was screaming it into the phone at a wife of one of the married men she slept with.

Snapping open my compact, I shot Brandi a look. “When you slept with your dad’s business partner over New Years, did I say anything?”

A strangled gasp escaped her lips. “I told you I was drunk!”

“Yeah, you told me that. But,” I emphasized, “how am I to know it’s the truth?”