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“So you want me to leave?” said Quinn.
Becca rolled her eyes and popped the can. The storm seemed to be sticking around—thunder still boomed every few minutes and lightning threw silhouettes against the glass. “You are such a drama queen.”
Quinn flung her textbook closed. “Well, at least it’s better than being a liar.”
Becca sat up straight. “A liar? What the hell did I lie about?”
“Self-defense class? You could have just told me you were sleeping with Chris Merrick.”
“Who said—wait—what the—are you crazy?” Becca couldn’t string a sentence together. “You think I’m sleeping with him? Why on earth would you think that?”
“Gee, I don’t know.” Her voice dropped to a mocking baritone. “I’m just here to thank Becca for last night.”
Becca stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “Quinn—”
“You could have told me, you know.” Quinn doodled on the margin of her notebook. “I didn’t even know you liked him, Bex... . I mean, after all the stuff with Drew—”
“I did go to self-defense class. And I didn’t sleep with Chris.” Becca paused, waiting for Quinn to look up. “When I came out, Seth Ramsey and some college guy were beating the crap out of him in the parking lot.”
“Why?”
The question made her stop. It was a good one. “I don’t know. But I chased them off with the car.” She told Quinn everything, including what had happened in the pet store and her visit to the Merrick house.
“You should call the cops,” Quinn said.
“And tell them what? I don’t even know Tyler’s last name.”
“You know Seth’s.” Quinn’s voice was careful.
“I’d rather not get involved, Quinn.”
“Bex—”
“Leave it.” Becca glared at her.
Quinn rocked back in her chair. “So you aren’t interested in Chris?”
“Please. He doesn’t really want to go out with me.”
“I think the sixty-dollar thing is kind of adorable.” Quinn chewed on the end of her pencil and glanced up.
Becca groaned. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m just saying—maybe people are over the Drew thing.”
“Tommy Dunleavy’s note today asked me if I give a happy ending.”
Quinn winced. “Okay, maybe some people are over the Drew thing.”
Becca replayed her comments to Chris, the way she’d lashed out at him over the lunch table. She frowned, but then scowled. “Still. A soccer game? That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Yeah, well.” Quinn flipped the textbook open, her eyebrows raised. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
“You suck.” Becca grinned and shoved her notebook at her.
Then Quinn shoved it back, a little more pointedly. She tapped her pen where a number was scrawled. “You going to call your dad or what? I can only be a bitch for so long.”
“You sure about that?”
