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"Let's order," Alyssa says. "I'm starving."
Samantha nods, but there's a smugness to it, like she's won this round of conversation.
But she already has everything I can give her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rest of dinner goes similarly. I hate to admit it, but I watch Alyssa carefully. She takes such timid bites, and she looks at her food with such trepidation. It's the kind of thing she'd normally include on her dreadfully dull recovery diet--grilled salmon and vegetables.
She can't stand it. Every time she catches me looking at her, she sinks further into her head. I try to include her in my conversation with Samantha, but Samantha keeps dominating it with trips down memory lane.
We finish our meals, but Samantha insists on dessert.
"Come on, it's been forever since I've had dinner at a nice restaurant."
"You know I'm not a dessert person," I say.
"And you'll complain about the shitty tea they serve in about five minutes." She looks to Alyssa. "What about you, Alyssa? Do you like chocolate?"
Alyssa tries to smile but it's pained. "On occasion."
"Do you want to split a piece?"
"No thank you." Alyssa looks out the window. "I'm full."
I clear my throat and give Samantha a look that demands she drop it. She folds her arms like I'm the one being ridiculous.
The waiter returns and Samantha orders for herself. Chocolate cake with ice cream. Alyssa orders a coffee, frowning when the waiter explains the lack of almond milk.
Samantha turns up her nose like she finds Alyssa's milk preferences horrifying. It's a little much. Samantha is from Santa Barbara, the hippie food capital of the state. I'm sure she's used to people requesting almond milk.
But no, she orders a cappuccino. Whole milk. Like she's showing off somehow.
I bite my lip. I can take anything Samantha wants to throw at me. But if she even thinks about doing anything to push Alyssa...
&n
bsp; It will be the last time she ever hears from me.
We make small talk while we wait for dessert. Samantha and Alyssa talk about nail polish and clothing, apparently the only things they have in common.
I watch their exchanges. They're both trying to be polite, but there's something off about it.
The waiter returns. Chocolate cake, ice cream, and three spoons. Of course.
Samantha digs in, moaning like she's in the middle of the world's most amazing sex. "You really should try it."
Alyssa shakes her head. She takes a quiet sip of her coffee. She's trying to act strong, but there's a nervousness in her eyes.
"Are you sure?" Samantha asks. "It's amazing."
"Sam, drop it," I say.
Samantha shrugs like it's nothing. Like she has no clue this is upsetting Alyssa.
I swear... if she's doing this on purpose. If she's doing anything to hurt Alyssa...
It's not completely absurd. Rumors of Alyssa's eating disorder are only a Google search away. But Samantha would never sink that low. And she has no motive.
