“Uh?”
She practically pushes me into a seat across from her, and then she leans across the table. “Last Saturday. After we left. Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell—” I start, but Dee presses her finger against my lips and shakes her head while tsk, tsk, tsking.
“Hailey. Hailey. Let me stop you right there, okay? We’re going to be friends, right?”
All I can manage is a lift of my eyebrow.
“As my friend, you need to know something about me. I’m practically an old married woman now. I’ve settled down. My scandalous days are behind me. I’ve gone vanilla. I’m balled. I’m chained. I’m—”
“You’re balled?” Rowan snickers, but Dee’s pleading brown eyes remain glued to the confused expression on my face.
“I need you to give me details. I want a story. I need the low-down. Give me some juice. I want the—”
“She’s had too much caffeine,” Rowan teases, and Dee never breaks eye contact with me as she reaches a hand back and starts batting at her friend.
“Uh.” I attempt to comb my fingers through my damp short brown curls since they’ve somehow managed to tangle in and around and over themselves. My hand gets stuck, and I wiggle my fingers in the knots as I say, “Well, not much happened. Danica fell asleep, and Mike and I played video games until she woke up.”
“That’s it?” Dee complains, slumping in her chair. “That’s seriously it? You played video games?”
I shrug, and in spite of the pout on Dee’s face, Rowan smiles. “What did Mike think of your Deadzone skills?”
The corners of my mouth tug up at her question. “He was impressed.”
“Of course he was. Did you two have fun together?”
Too much fun. I’ve replayed that night in my mind too many times over the past four days, smiling at the jokes that were told or the stupid things that were said or the way Mike’s chocolate-brown eyes brightened when he laughed so hard, they filled with tears. I’ve remembered the way he wiped those tears on his shoulder since his hands were holding his game controller.
And I’ve remembered earlier: the show. The way he looked at the back of the stage, his messy brown hair tipped with sweat as blue light danced over his shoulders, his neck, his arms. I’ve remembered the way the entire room jumped to the beat of his drumsticks as they pounded an unforgiving rhythm against his drums. I’ve remembered the pulsing of the club, and the way Mike’s eyes lifted at breaks in the songs to take it all in.
And then, I’ve remembered that he’s Danica’s boyfriend, and I’ve focused on that, and focused on that, and focused on that.
“Yeah,” I finally answer Rowan. “It was a lot of fun.”
“Mike’s a sweetheart, right?” she asks with that bright smile still shining on her face.
“Yeah—”
“And hot, right?” Dee asks, her smile matching Rowan’s. I stare back and forth between them.
“I guess?”
I’ve never been one to gossip about boys. And I’m not about to start with the guy who is banging my cousin.
“I think he’s hot as hell,” Dee offers. “I mean, those arms, right? Even Joel doesn’t have arms like Mike. Joel’s arms are kind of lean, but Mike’s arms are—”
“Do you have a crush on Mike or something?” I ask, and Dee’s face twists, her brows knitting over a severely crinkled nose.
“What? No!”
Rowan stifles a laugh, and I ask, “Are you sure? I mean, if you do, I won’t tell Danica, but—”
“Hell no, I don’t have a crush on Mike! Jesus. I’m with Joel.” Dee leans across the table and emphasizes his name. “I have a boyfriend.”
“O . . . kay?”
She rubs the line between her eyebrows, and Rowan laughs a little before asking, “What about you, Hailey? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I did,” I answer, slowly pulling my eyes from Dee. “But we broke up before I moved here.”
“Oh.” Rowan’s mouth turns down in a frown, her blue eyes sympathetic behind black frame glasses that are slipping down her nose. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” I say as I squint my eyes to try to read the coffee menu behind the register up front. I wonder if there’s anything I can afford with the three dollars and two dimes in my pocket. “We’re better as friends anyway.”
“So nothing serious?” Rowan asks, and I give her my attention.
Serious? I’m pretty sure I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life. The few boyfriends I’ve had were more like guy acquaintances I just spent extra time with, and all of my breakups have been easy. Nothing worth losing sleep over.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Definitely nothing serious.”
Rowan’s smile widens, and I ask her what she’s drinking before excusing myself to splurge on a cup of coffee, desperately needing the caffeine after this morning’s runaround. Walking a kennel’s worth of dogs is always exhausting, but walking them in the beating rain is brutal, especially when I have three back-to-back exams to suffer through after.
By the time I sit back down, my coffee is already half gone, and I search for the phone I left on the table only to find it in Dee’s hands.
“What are you doing?” I ask as she maneuvers her thumbs over my screen, and she answers without looking up.