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“What?”
“Tacos or spaghetti.”
He glances over at Houston and his buddies. Houston shrugs. “She won’t let it go until you answer. She’s weird like that.”
Yes, I am.
“Tacos,” he answers.
“Disney World or Disneyland?”
“Land.” Which means he’s been on the West Coast and we’re East Coast.
“Ice cream or brownies?”
Eyes to the right again—fourth time in a row. “Brownies.”
“Rolling Stones or the Beatles?”
This one trips people up. They either don’t have an answer, have an immediate answer, or are split. “Stones.”
A boy after my own heart and once again to the right. “Cool.”
I eat another taco chip and let the boys share conversation for a few minutes. They discuss an upcoming dance the frat is holding and I mentally mark the date. I’ll need more supply than normal that weekend.
Right as their conversation is about to switch, Albert says to me, “If you’re in high school, then why are you here?”
I raise my wrist and dangle the annoying orange band. “Teen night. I should ask why college boys would want to hang here tonight.”
Houston jerks his hand to the right. “Jerry’s still a minor.”
Jerry has a fake ID and Jerry must also not trust Albert if he’s keeping that a secret.
“Did you come alone?” Albert asks.
“No, but my friend is doing a guy in the bathroom and watching doesn’t turn me on.”
Houston chokes on a chip. Serves him right.
“Seriously, why here?” I push. “No alcohol is being served here tonight and I would have left Jerry’s sorry, minor ass at home. Would have thought college boys would be searching for trouble.”
Albert looks left and my Spidey-senses prickle along my skin. “We’re meeting up with somebody.”
“Anyone I know?” I cast a sideways gaze at Houston. “Mallory will be pissed if you’re trying to set up her friends with your friends. Remember how well that worked last time?”
I have no clue if that’s true or not, but I like watching people scramble to think fast.
“We’re here to meet my dealer,” says Houston. Well played. Albert straightens and Houston gestures to me. “She’s cool so don’t freak.”
I prop my elbows on the table and tilt my head, purposefully letting him think I’m attracted...to him. “Interested in buying?”
Albert scratches his nose. Not a good sign at all. “Yeah.”
He could be nervous. Maybe it’s his first time buying. First timers have a guilty look about them, but he’s too put together for the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-jail fear.
“Ever bought before?”
“Yes.” The boy doesn’t blink and I believe him.
