Life In Reverse(9)

My phone pings and I pull it from the zippered pocket of my purse, grinning when I see a text from him.



Troy: Hey, Love, be there in 10. Grab some grub and a seat. Oh, Avery is with me.



I swipe my thumb over the screen and type back.



Me: Hurry up. I’m hungry.



Troy: xo



Tucking my phone back in my purse, I round the corner. Sure enough, there’s a sign pointing to the restaurant followed by an orange awning with the words ‘Serve Yourself’ in bright green letters. The place is nothing like I expected. Rows of neon picnic tables fill one side, while on the other, various types of food and desserts are shielded behind a half sheet of glass. It reminds me of our dorm cafeteria at Oregon State University, only much cooler.

Slabs of chocolate fudge cake make me reconsider my original thoughts about this place. Nothing like chocolate to lift the spirits. I immediately pick up a tray then fly over and nab the biggest piece with the most frosting. The pasta doesn’t look half bad either and I scoop some on my plate before grabbing a drink. Out of nowhere, a long finger makes a mad swipe for the top of my cake and I yank it to the far end of the tray.

“Whoa, Ems. Now that is a serious piece of cake,” Troy remarks. He’s almost as enthusiastic about chocolate as I am. Almost.

“Hands off. Get your own.” I smirk and cup my hand around the cake, guarding it with my life.

He bats his long, blond eyelashes and gives me his best lopsided smile. “Not even for me?”

“No.” My tone is firm but playful. “Not even for you.” He kisses my cheek and I laugh. Sensing a moment of weakness on my part, he reaches for the cake again. “Stop trying to distract me. The answer is still no,” I repeat, and he sighs. “So… how was your date with Nick last night?”

He rakes a hand through his straw-colored hair. “That’s something we need to discuss over food. The jury’s still out. He’s hung like there’s no tomorrow, but something just wasn’t right.”

“Oh My God,” I shriek. “That is wayyyy too much information.”

He winks and traipses off toward the hot dishes, throwing me a glance over his shoulder. “See you at the table, and plan on telling me what’s wrong. You can either tell me now or at work later. Your choice.”

Crap.

Troy and I have been friends since the first day of second grade when he practically accosted me for my Mickey Mouse pencil. He was adorable with his missing teeth and his big grin that I had no choice but to give it to him—and the rest is history. He lives for making other people smile. Something I can’t help doing right now as he balances a tray with one hand and tosses an apple in the air with the other, not a care in the world.

I felt like that, too—before.

I shake my head to try to empty out my thoughts as I wander between the aisles of tables. Avery and Troy wave their arms in the air, gesturing for me to come over when I spot something out of the corner of my eye. Someone sitting alone at the far end of the restaurant.

Vance.

My feet propel me in his direction, almost as if there’s an invisible hand on my back guiding me. Troy and Avery yell my name but I ignore them until I find myself standing next to Vance. Heavily engrossed in a book, he shovels spaghetti into his mouth like a caveman, hand gripping the fork while spaghetti hangs from his lips. I clear my throat to announce my presence and it takes him several seconds to realize I’m there. He gives me a sideways glance, flipping the book over on the table to wipe sauce from his mouth with the back of his hand. I peer over his shoulder at the novel but he slides his free arm across the cover.

“What are you reading?”

“What do you care?” He spits the words out before returning to his plate of spaghetti. It’s actually a very good question. I have no idea.

“Just curious.”

He drops the fork onto his plate with a clatter and side eyes me again. “Curiosity kills. Didn’t you know that? Besides,” he adds, those blue-gray eyes drilling holes through my skull, “how do you even have time to talk to me? One would assume you’re too f*cking busy. So if you don’t mind,” he continues after a pause, “I’d actually like to get back to my book.”

I glare at him with the same intensity he’s giving me. “You know, I don’t know you that well and already I don’t really like you.”

He exhales a laugh, uncaring and bitter. “Well, I guess we’re even. Because I don’t like you much either. And don’t worry about the knowing me part… because you won’t.” He rattles the words off with such venom I have to wonder where the anger is coming from. But I’m certainly not sticking around and subjecting myself to it.

“Arrgg.” I huff out my frustration and stalk over to Troy and Avery.

“Wasn’t that a great little lunchtime show,” Avery muses with too much enjoyment as I drop my tray on the table.

“He is so annoying.” I hook a leg over the bench seat and twist the cap off my Snapple Iced Tea, chugging down my aggravation.

“Yes,” Avery replies with a smug grin, talking around a mouthful of apple. “I can see just how annoying he is.”

“Okay.” Troy steals a look at Vance then leans into the table. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on? Because that dude is hot, and annoying turns me on.”