Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,103

the dark about something so huge.

Huge. Hehe.

Oh, God, please help me and my stupid self. I stood abruptly, grabbing a sweatshirt and pushing my feet into some shoes. “I need food before I throw-up. I’m going to Chicken King.”

“I’ll come with you,” Willa said, getting up.

“Hey,” Holly called. She gave me a small smile. “Don’t worry about last night. It was a blast, and everyone is fine.”

“But Silas—”

“He’s fine,” she insisted. “He cares about you. He was laughing like the rest of us and he had zero problems carrying you in his arms off the subway.”

My mouth dropped open in horror. Holly gave me a wink.

“We have pictures,” Beth said, smiling sweetly.

“Lord, no.” I grabbed the doorknob and rushed out, shaking my head.

“Hold on!” Willa called to me down the stairs as I ran down, not stopping until I got to the bottom. I don’t think I’d ever been this embarrassed.

Willa was huffing when she got to the bottom.

I closed my eyes as she petted me with exaggerated strokes down my back. “Relaaax.”

I blew out a breath and walked out the doors, pulling down my sunglasses. The Chicken King was a few blocks away.

“I feel so stupid.”

“Well, don’t. It was a fun night.”

“I feel like I should text Silas to apologize.”

“Good idea. Silas, I’m sorry I said you have a perfect penis.”

“Uuung.” I threw my head back and Willa laughed.

“Let it go,” she said. “I swear, it’s fine.”

We stayed quiet the rest of the walk, except when we passed an alley of garbage bins and we both covered our mouths and noses against the rot.

Inside the fast food restaurant, I gave the bored cashier my best, most grateful smile.

“Hi. I would love a large fry and medium Coke.”

“It’s still breakfast,” he said.

My whole heart sank, and I heard Willa smack her lips.

“You can’t throw some fries in that fryer?”

“I mean…nah,” said the boy. “Unless you wanna wait ten minutes for lunch.”

“Hold up,” Willa began, but I shook my head.

“It’s okay.”

“Is there a problem here?” Out walked Big Raymond in a short-sleeved button up shirt, tight on his biceps, and managerial hat. His eyes went to Willa and widened, then he grinned and the dimples popped out. Willa made a sound in the back of her throat and I hit her hip with my hand under the counter where the guys couldn’t see. I felt her hand reach out to slap excitedly at mine.

“Hi,” I said. “We met before!”

“Yeah, yeah!” he said. “What can I get for you ladies?”

“I’m really craving fries, but I can wait the ten minutes,” I said, my head pounding.

Willa’s mouth pulled to the side and Big Raymond looked at the employee. “You know we can take fry orders during breakfast, right? Just push that override button.”

“Nah,” said the employee. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know. Ring it up.”

I smiled and looked at Willa, who was openly checking out Big Raymond. “What do you want, hon?” I asked her. “I owe you.”

“For what?” she said distractedly.

“For calling you a bitch last night.”

“Whatchu call her a bitch for?” Raymond asked with curiosity. I flushed because I thought I’d said that quietly.

Willa laughed. “She was drunk and mad ‘cause we were laughing at something she said.”

Raymond leaned against the counter and Willa leaned in, like they were freaking magnetized. “What’d she say?” he asked.

“You don’t even want to know.” She waved a hand, cracking up.

“Yeah, you don’t,” I agreed as they laughed together. “Want a frappe thingy?” I asked her.

“Oh, yeah. Mocha.”

I could have moonwalked out of the restaurant in one of the chicken hats right then and neither of them would have noticed.

Raymond lowered his voice. “Your friends tell you I said hey?”

“Hm.” She played it cool. “They said something about some man with dimples.”

“Oh, yeah? And whatchu think about these dimples now that you see ‘em for yourself?”

“I mean…” She laughed. “I might be a sucker for some dimples. That’s all I’m saying.”

He laughed now too. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Oh, God, they were so cute, but I was going to throw up.

The cashier was just watching them, and Raymond frowned. “You put in that order yet? Come on, now.” He waved at the register and the cashier rang it all up. But before I was going to swipe my payment, Big Raymond swiped his manager card.

“On the house,” he said.

“Aren’t you sweet?” Willa said.

“Thank you,” I told Raymond, and I nodded my appreciation to the cashier. Then I moved aside to lean on the wall