Page 134

"We survived,” Lexi said with a smile. “Almost everyone qualified for Nationals.”

“Almost everyone?” Dean glanced at Rove.

Rove leaned up against the booth, one arm lifting to rest on the back cushion. He leaned his head on his hand and shook his head.

“Miranda and Taylor didn't get the scores they needed. But there’s always the next meet.”

It was at this moment that the waitress came up to the table to take our order. She’d barely finished introducing herself before AJ pointed at the appetizer section.

"Can we get some fried pickles?" AJ said.

“How about we get onion rings?” Rove tacked on before the waitress could write down fried pickles.

AJ gave Rove a look. “Why?”

“Red doesn't like pickles,” Rove said simply.

I shook my head. “You guys can get pickles, it's fine.”

“I agree, pickles are kinda gross,” Lexi chimed in, giving me a reassuring nudge. "Let’s do onion rings.”

“Okay, fine.” AJ let out a heavy sigh and looked sweetly at the waitress again. “Onion rings it is then.”

A few moments later, the waitress left to put our order in. She took the menus with her, and as she reached across the table, she bumped the little caddy in the center that held the salt and pepper shakers.

My gaze landed on the little caddy.

The salt and pepper shakers immediately reminded me of the friendship contract we'd scribbled onto a diner napkin.

After a moment, I dared to glance over at Rove, not expecting to find him already looking at me.

The expression in his emerald eyes was unreadable.

Without breaking my gaze, he reached for his water and took a sip.

For some reason, I flushed and reached up to fiddle with the end of my ponytail.

“So are you going to sing?” I asked, gesturing to the stage at the front of the restaurant where everyone was gathered around someone singing a Justin Bieber song at the top of their lungs.

His eyes shifted over to the crowd of people. He immediately shook his head. “Not really my thing.”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t host shower concerts? Never grooved with a hairbrush?”

“Grooved?” A chuckle escaped him, and he reached up, biting the edge of his knuckle. Something flipped in my stomach at the sight of him fighting back his amusement. “How old are you?”

“I thought because you’re an Olympian you’d be good at performing in front of people.”

The drinks and onion rings arrived, and I took a sip of my Diet Coke before giving him a taunting smile.

He shook his head. “You do it first. Then I will.” He took a sip of his drink, mirroring me, then biting on the edge of the straw. His expression said he really didn’t think I’d do it.

After our talk on the beach, I was suddenly feeling much better. Maybe a night out and some karaoke was exactly what I needed to start feeling like myself again.

I'd text Jamie later.

Right now, all I could do was trust that she knew I loved her and that if she needed me, I'd be there.

Rove was right. I couldn't make her choices for her.