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“I didn’t use her,” he said hotly.
A few students at a table nearby give us a dirty look for talking too loudly, and Eli apologizes to them before turning back to me.
“Oh, really?” I continue, lowering my voice. “Then answer me this: are you into her?”
“Nah, I’m not into her. She’s hot, though.”
My stomach does another sick, lazy barrel roll. Just now, it was so easy for him to say that she was hot. I can’t help remembering when he said I wasn’t ugly.
And then the first time he’d said I was cute, it was like it had to be ripped from his throat. It made me suddenly, irrationally angry.
“Did you ever stop to think about how many of the hot girls you make out with or hook up withlikeyou, Eli? Have you thought abouttheirfeelings?”
“Yeah, I have,” he says coolly. “That’s why I make it very clear to them before we do anything that I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”
“You told Mandi you didn’t want a girlfriend?”
“I told her with hockey and school, I don’t have time for a relationship. Most girls would understand what that means.”
“Oh, foolish boy. Mandi’s not most girls.”
“I know that now,” he says glumly.
“I told you,” I say, shaking my head. “I told you, and you chose to ignore it. Big mistake, Donnelley.”
“Jesus Christ, Holland. How long are you going to bust my balls about this?” He leans back in his chair. “Can we just fast-forward to the part where you tell me I’m an idiot, then we bail and go get some food?”
His statement takes me by surprise, and when he grins at me, I can’t help but laugh.
“I believe I already called you a dumb ass,” I point out. “But I never agreed to go out with you for food.”
“Well, can you hurry up and agree? Hockey practice was intense today, and I’m hungrier than normal. Besides, I owe you a meal after the Sal’s debacle.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I tell him, shoving my laptop into my knapsack. “Why are you here at the library, anyway?”
“I was going to work on my paper for World History, but now I’m not in the mood.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“Come on, let me make up the other night to you, okay? Let’s go eat.”
“I’m not going to Sal’s.”
“Let’s go to that bakery place I told you about.”
“Okay. I guess I can eat.”
“Good.” He grabs his knapsack. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at Chaseton’s Bakery, which is completely empty except for us.
“I thought you said this place was good,” I whisper as we walk into the shop. “Why is it empty?”
“It is good,” Eli assures me. “Their busiest times are usually during breakfast or lunch. It’s always packed when I’ve been here.” He pulls his wallet from his jeans as we walk up to the counter. “Whatever you want, okay? It’s on me.”
My stomach chooses that moment to let out a deafening growl. It doesn’t escape Eli’s notice, and he grins.
