metaphorical flame thrower on my fake relationship with Ricardo is the way he goes stiff whenever we encounter his mom in the halls. I may not want him around anymore, but for some reason bickering with me keeps his head high whenever she shows up.
Still, restless angst has me so wound up, picking a fight with him might make me feel better. Give me back some of my control. Besides, couples fight. It’s inevitable. The eatery is crowded, not my usual choice for a confrontation, but if I don’t do something now, I may lose my nerve. Not something I ever thought I’d struggle with, honestly.
Ricardo’s arm brushes against my back as he reaches over to take a cherry tomato from my plate. Ordinarily I don’t mind sharing food. It’s not a huge deal. But right now? It’s the opening I need. Steeling my resolve, I swivel toward Ricardo and push his arm off the back of my chair. “Give me some room, will you?” I snap.
Ricardo’s eyebrows shoot up.
Across the table, Adrienne’s mouth forms a tiny “o” at my outburst, her spoon suspended before her face.
Yeah, I’ve been kind of rude today, but not outwardly hostile. That changes now.
“What’s wrong?” Ricardo whispers, tucking his arm into his lap as if I’ve physically injured him. A sharp rap of guilt knocks on my conscience, but I bolt my mind against it.
Ricardo’s love language is definitely touch, so that’s where I strike first. “You. That’s what. You’re so touchy feely all the time. Give me a break. You’re suffocating me.”
Ricardo’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, as if he just took a punch to the gut. He takes a slow bite of his salad, his eyes not leaving mine. “That’s an interesting choice of words, chérie. Don’t do this here,” he whispers, eyes skimming over my shoulder.
“Why not?” I rasp. “Maybe it’s time we put on a show so everyone has something to talk about other than my face. At least then I’d be at the front of the rumors, instead of the butt of everyone’s raccoon jokes.”
Mikhail’s eyes scan the eatery, watching, evaluating everyone around us. It’s comforting, if unhelpful.
“Who’s telling raccoon jokes?” Cal asks, his lacrosse stick in his hands. “I’ll, I’ll…”
Adrienne pulls his stick down under the table, shaking her head.
Ricardo’s eyebrows furrow in frustration. “Is that what this is about? You’re tired of people talking about your face? It gives me no little pleasure to tell you that you look terrible. Maybe you should have skipped classes today. Taken a chill day. You sound like you need it.”
I rear back, scoffing. “How dare you tell me what I need? You know what I actually need? A supportive boyfriend. Maybe you could try that for once.” It’s a low blow, since he’s been nothing but supportive. I know that, but the part of me that needs some distance is in control right now, overpowering the little voice inside me that is begging me not to lay waste to whatever is going on between Ricardo and me.
Ricardo’s jaw clenches. “Is that what you think? That I’m not supportive? Okay. Okay.” He shoves back from the table. The metal feet of his chair screech over the tile floor as he moves it into position, hoisting himself up onto it so that he looks like a tall, lithe, angry giant. “Hey, everyone,” he shouts, throwing his arms wide. “The next person I catch gossiping about Charlotte is going to regret it. So shove it.” He slams his body down into his seat, heat emanating off him in waves. He won’t look at me.
Everyone in the eatery has gone quiet. We’re all staring at him in shock.
There’s a flicker in Genevieve’s eyes that, if I didn’t know any better, I’d call pride.
My heart is thrumming behind my ribs, my resolve to push him away wavering. I had no idea he’d do that. The abrupt, protectiveness of the gesture short-circuits my drive to fight with him anymore. Anger snuffed out like a candle flame, I nibble at my cobb salad.
Gul sidles up to our table and hovers near Cal, her dark hair brushing his shoulder. He takes the hint and gives up his chair. They switch places, Gul sitting across from me and Cal munching on his banana in annoyed silence.
“Trouble in paradise?” She says, eyeing Ricardo and I where we sit next to each other but worlds apart.
I haven’t forgotten her pointed questions about our lack of presence on social media. To