who are not that into you that you fall head over heels for. Like Damien Jones, when I was in the second grade. The most tortured, troubled, bad boy to ever walk the halls at Ocosta Elementary. With his ice-blue eyes and cherry-red lips, I thought he was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. He also scared the shit out of me. So one day, eight-year-old me was watching him get picked on by an older boy. I said something, I don’t remember what, but that’s the day I put myself on Damien Jones’s radar. He looked over at me, winked, and then said, “You’re my girlfriend,” right before he pulled my hair and took my lunch money. And as it turns out, being DJ’s girlfriend wasn’t by choice. At least not on my part. I spent a year buying Damien’s lunch every day only for him to move away. Turns out, he didn’t even go to our school. He’d run away from home and apparently thought hey, let’s hang out here. I don’t know, but it was bizarre. I often wonder what that dude’s up to these days, but I have a feeling it’s prison.
My point?
I’m drawn to the secret keepers.
Still don’t believe me? Fast-forward to seventh grade. Wesson Wades asked me out. He was my first real kiss with tongue, and two minutes later, he told me he just wanted to see how I kissed. And, as it turned out, it was all a bet he made with his friend.
Boys suck.
Which brings me back to Lincoln. As the morning sun filters in through the bar, it’s a different vibe from the one eight hours ago. Flipping light switches as I go, I stand behind the bar and smile. I think of him, his touch, his memory, it’s etched in every part of me. Touching my shoulder, it stings, another reminder of his mark on me. The morning starts slowly, Mal trickling in with coffee, Everett following close behind and getting the kitchen going.
About twenty minutes later, Dylan walks into the bar, and Mal grins, nudging me beside her. “Watch this.” And then she presses a button on her phone only to have “Wrecking Ball” play.
With a grin, Dylan stops walking. “Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.”
I slide my eyes to Mal. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“Her car was keyed last night.” Mal’s grin widens. She finds all Dylan’s “adventures” amusing. Probably because Mal’s own life revolves around tiny terrorist twins. “Mrs. Quinten isn’t so pleased with her.”
Dylan drops her bag on the bar. It’s black, much like her thick eye makeup and her heart. “A marriage is only as strong as the two in it.”
Mal and I exchange a look. “Or your pussy is made of magic fairy dust,” Mal adds.
Everett surfaces from the back and sets a plate of food next to Dylan’s bag. “Enjoy, girls.” Because we never leave this place, almost every meal I have is a product of Everett. If we had any chemistry, I’d probably marry him just so I never had to cook.
Everett stands by the bar, chewing on a piece of sausage. “I see you made it home okay, or you never left.”
I pick through the bacon until I find a crispy piece. “I did.”
Sitting on a stool, Mal sighs and reaches for the bacon. “Man, I was really trying to become vegan.”
“Why?” Everett asks, giving her a look of disgust.
“Because it’s healthier for you, and I’m tired of my kids only eating chicken nuggets.”
“That’s a shame. Meat’s good.” Dylan smirks, elbowing Everett.
Everett rolls his eyes. “You would say that.”
Just in case you’re curious, Everett was engaged last year. Now he’s not. Because of Dylan. There’s literally so much dirty laundry in this damn bar it stinks.
“I better go wake up Ky. He slept in the truck last night. Didn’t even wake up when I started it this morning and came to work.”
“Why?” I ask, unsure if I really want to know.
“No idea. Why does he do anything he does?” And then he smiles, winking at me as he takes another piece of sausage. “He’s probably pissed at me because we didn’t give you a ride home last night.”
Rolling my eyes, I smack my hand at Dylan as she starts to pop off with something inappropriate about him. I feel like I need to protect Kylo from Dylan’s advances, and believe me, she’s already eyed the kid a few times.
Conversations shift when Everett disappears. Mal tells us about Mabel