needs to be six feet under or locked in a jail cell for life. “What do you know about the new girl?”
Rebecca side-eyes me. “Leave her alone. She’s new, she’s quiet and the last thing she needs is you hitting on her.”
“When did you become my block?”
“Since you started kissing girls,” she answers like she’s bored. “Go hit on the girls who want to be kissed. Linda Glade has been staring at you all night like you’re an entrée on a menu.”
I turn my head in Linda’s direction. She smiles. I nod back. That I will keep in mind. But later. “I’m not going to hit on the new girl.”
I want to ask her if anyone has warned the new girl off Ron yet. I don’t, because the mention of Ron makes Rebecca nauseous. He cornered her once, and it was a mistake. While he didn’t get far, it was far enough to freak Rebecca out, and far enough that Charlie beat the hell out of the bastard. But that’s the thing about bastards like Ron—they don’t learn.
“What’s your take on the new girl?” I’m fishing to see if they’ve spoken. Fishing to see if I need to keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.
“She’s not exactly friendly. I tried talking to her the first time she came to the diner. I was working, gave her free pie, and she sort of blew me off.”
“Sort of?”
“She was pleasant to me until Charlie swung by to pick me up on his motorcycle. She asked if he was part of the MC in town, and I said yes, then Meg made up some excuse to leave, and when she sees me now, she walks the other way. While I don’t have physical evidence, I’m betting she has some very wrong preconceived ideas about motorcycle clubs. Which is fantastic, because that’s all this town needs—one more hater.”
All Rebecca says is true, but I don’t focus on that. Instead, I try to think of a way to work Meg’s name into the conversation because I want to hear how it rolls off my lips. Meg. Her name is Meg.
“Izzy,” Charlie calls out, using his nickname for Rebecca. “Are you playing?”
“Damn straight I am.” Rebecca smacks my arm. “Come play with us. My team is lacking talent, and I seriously want to beat Charlie. If he wins, he gloats, and I want to punch him in the nose when he gloats.”
I chuckle. “Maybe later.”
“Whatever, but I meant what I said. Stay away from Meg. Besides the fact she’s quiet and she obviously doesn’t like MCs, I get the feeling she’s here to heal from something. So if you want to kiss a girl, kiss somebody else.”
“If she dissed you, then why are you defending her?”
Rebecca slips off the tailgate and shoves her hands into her front pockets. Her shoulders hunch, and she loses some of the color in her face. There’s an ache in my chest for her. Rebecca and I are close because Rebecca’s dad is Satan, and she spends a lot of time at my house to hide from him. That look she has on her face is the same one she gets after the two of them have a rough run-in. “I understand ghosts.”
That rumbles through me. “Meg told you she has ghosts?”
She shakes her head. “When you live in a haunted house, sometimes it’s easy to spot other people’s demented spirits.”
I nod to let her know I understand. I may not have real life experience with those sorts of ghosts, but I’ve seen enough of the aftermath of living with Rebecca’s and Charlie’s parents that I can empathize. “No kissing the new girl. I got it.”
Rebecca’s smile is weak, and she tries to play off the hurt with a wink. She walks into the night, closer to the trucks that have turned on their headlights to create a playing field.
Ron’s still talking to Meg, and Meg’s still staring at the bonfire. He’s zeroed in on her for the evening even though she hasn’t given him much indication she’s interested, but a girl’s consent has never been his thing. Sweet-talking them until he gets them alone is his MO.
Truth is, I’d like to play football and hang with my friends, not be an unpaid babysitter for the night. I got three choices. One—I can walk away, because she’s not my responsibility. Two—I can play guardian angel all night from a distance and then hop in if he makes