One of Us Is Next - Karen M. McManus Page 0,57

into the car. His brown eyes have nice gold flecks in them, which I file away in my Knox Is Going to Be Hot One Day mental folder. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem.” I open my door and duck my head against the rain, but it only hits me for a few seconds before Knox is suddenly at my side, holding an umbrella over both our heads. I grin up at him. “Wow, you’re prepared.”

He smiles back, and I’m glad I rescued him from the fiery pits of health class hell. “Former Boy Scout,” he says as we head for the entrance. “If we need to build a fire later, I can do that too.”

Once we get to Epoch Coffee, we snag a prime corner table. Knox offers to get our drinks, and I pull out my phone while I wait for him to get back. I haven’t been on Instagram since deleting all the gross comments last week, and I check it now to see if going private has kept the trolls away. It has, for the most part, although I have a bunch of new message requests. Most are from guys I don’t know, except one.

Derekculpepper01 Hey, I don’t mean

I frown at my screen and click the full message. Hey, I don’t mean to be a pain in your ass or anything, but I’d really like to talk to you. Can you text me? Or call if you’d rather.

“No, dickhead, I can’t,” I say out loud as Knox returns to the table.

He freezes halfway to handing me my drink. “What?”

“Not you,” I say, accepting the iced coffee. “Thank you.” I hesitate before explaining further, but then I figure, what the hell. Nothing distracts you from your own problems like hearing about somebody else’s. “So, you know that whole Truth or Dare drama with me and my sister, right? Well, the ex-boyfriend in question keeps messaging me and I don’t know why. I don’t care, either, but it’s annoying. He’s annoying.”

“Social media sucks,” Knox says. He’s dumped a small mountain of sugar packets onto the table and grabs three, tearing them open together. His shoulders hunch as he stirs them into whatever he’s drinking. “I haven’t been on since—a while. I can’t deal.”

“Good,” I say. “Stay away. I hope you’ve blocked Unknown’s number, too.”

“I have,” Knox says grimly. He’s starting to look miserable again, so I quickly change the subject, and for the next hour we talk about everything but the texting game. Every once in a while, I wonder if I should bring up Maeve, but—no. Too soon.

When Knox glances at his phone and announces that he has to leave for work, I’m surprised at how fast the time went by. I have to leave too; I’m supposed to be helping Addy and Maeve put together Ashton’s wedding favors this afternoon.

I use a stray napkin to wipe the iced coffee condensation rings from our table and pick up my almost-empty drink. “Do you want a ride?” I ask, following Knox out of Epoch Coffee and into the main mall thoroughfare.

“Well, it’s in San Diego.” Knox looks nervous, like he’s remembering every near-fender-bender from the ride over. To be fair, there were a lot for a mile-and-a-half drive. “That’s pretty far out of your way.” We reach the mall exit and push through the doors. It’s still overcast, but the rain has stopped. “I’ll just take the bus.” He glances at his watch. “There’s one leaving in ten minutes. If I cut through the construction site behind the mall, I can make it.”

“Okay, well—” A familiar giggle stops me, and I turn to see Jules crossing the parking lot with Monica Hill. They’re walking at an angle, toward the side of the mall instead of the front door. When they’re a few feet away from us, Jules notices me and stops short. She grabs onto Monica’s arm to make her stop, too.

“Heyyy,” Jules says, with about half her usual enthusiasm. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes flick toward Knox and widen. Monica suppresses a laugh and whispers something in Jules’s ear.

I can feel my cheeks turning beet red. I hate that I’m embarrassed to be seen with Knox in front of Jules and Monica, especially after we had such a good time hanging out. But I am. “Just getting coffee,” I say.

“So are we,” Jules says, even though they’re obviously not headed for Epoch Coffee. “Too bad we missed you.”

“Yeah, too bad,” Monica echoes. They keep

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