Why is that? Link thought, looking at her. It’s not like she needed any more self-esteem. The girl was an esteem factory.
“John’s busy with Uncle Macon.” Lena didn’t elaborate. “And he’s also gone after this summer, you know. John and Liv.”
Ridley looked doubly irritated.
“That leaves you and me, Sugarplum.” Link looked at her. “Wanna go see a movie in Summerville or somethin’? The monster truck rally’s up in Columbia. Road trip?”
“Just let me get my dip.” Ridley shot him a withering look. “I thought summer was supposed to be fun. Three days in and I’m already bored to death.”
“Aww, it’s not that bad.” Link sat up and looked at her, pulling the towel from his head.
“Are you talking about your hair? Because it is that bad.” She raised an eyebrow.
Link grinned. He knew how his hair was sticking up, and he didn’t care. If you love me, you love my hair.
The question was, did she love him?
“There’s a new club I want to hit. Suffer. It’s like Exile, only hotter.” Ridley had made up her mind. When she looked around the sticky plastic booth at the Dar-ee Keen, though, nobody else was biting.
Here we go, thought Link, already tired. “Everything’s hotter, Babe. It’s almost July.”
She wasn’t giving up. She pushed away her double-cherry-chocolate shake. “Come on, guys. Just this once. Let’s get out of this boring town and light it up, Caster-style.”
“Because our little trip to the South of France didn’t do it for you?” Ethan shoved the rest of his fries on top of his burger and into his mouth.
He still ate as though he was making up for lost time, Link thought sadly. Or because his best friend can’t eat anymore. It was the only thing Link missed about being a hundred percent Mortal.
That, and sleeping in. Or sleeping at all.
“France? That was today. This is tonight.” Ridley tried to make her logic sound reasonable, but Link wasn’t buying it any more than the rest of their friends.
Ethan shook his head. “I guess I don’t need to remind you how many times Link and I have nearly gotten our butts kicked at Exile. Caster-style.”
Ridley shrugged. “Two hybrid Incubuses, a Siren, and a Natural. You and the Trapper Keeper will be safe as babies in butt bags.”
Liv looked annoyed. “It’s Keeper.”
“And they’re called diapers.” Lena shook her head.
“Whatever.” Ridley fluttered her pink nails dismissively.
“I’ll go,” Link said with a sigh. “I’d go anywhere with you, Sugarplum. You know that. If I’d go to Saint No Way today, I’ll go to Suffer tonight. At least the name’s settin’ my expectations where they probably belong.”
“Aw, thanks, Shrinky Dink.” She kissed his cheek and he pulled her close, bringing his mouth to hers. They kissed across the booth table.
Ethan and Lena and Liv and John collectively groaned, like they always did. But Ridley and Link ignored them, like they always did. Then they just kept kissing, like it was a hundred degrees inside and out.
Like they would die as soon as this kiss was over, and neither one of them cared.
Like it was the end of time, and there was nobody else left in the whole world to keep them apart.
Third Degree Burns, Link thought. That’s what this is. Finally.
By the time Link came up for air, Ridley’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and her bright pink lipstick was wrapped around his face.
“That was seriously the most disgusting display of PDA anyone’s ever witnessed in the history of Gatlin County,” Ethan said, pushing his burger away.
“Possibly throughout all of history,” added Liv.