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I shrug. “Yeah, he’s cute, but I don’t feel anything like that toward him. I mean, I only saw him once for like two minutes and before that we only knew each other when we were kids.”
“Sometimes I wish I grew up here and knew people when we were little.”
“Trust me,” Harlow interrupts, coming to the table with her iced vanilla latte, “you don’t want that. Then you remember that time Justin Kirk ate a worm on a dare in second grade and you can’t get behind everyone’s backing that he’s the hottest guy in your class.” She shrugs as the two of us stare at her. “What?” she asks innocently, blowing her straw wrapper at me. I pull it out of my hair and lay it on the table.
“Nothing,” I say. While Meredith says, “Do tell me more.”
“Don’t tell her more,” I warn Harlow. “She’ll only use it as blackmail against people.”
Meredith rolls her eyes and brushes her long, red hair over her shoulder. “Oh, ye of little faith. Blackmail makes the world turn. Without it, no one would ever get what they want.”
“I’m sure there are other ways to get what you want.”
“Yeah, but they’re not as fun,” she argues.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Spencer’s voice breaks into our conversation. “I had to help my mom. Let me grab a coffee real quick.” He points over his shoulder with a smile before getting in line.
“You didn’t tell me he was hot,” Meredith hisses, leaning across the table to me.
“You didn’t ask,” I defend.
She turns and looks at him and I know, without a doubt, she’s staring at his ass.
Meredith is shameless.
“How come I’ve never noticed him before?”
“Probably because he’s smart.” Harlow hides this slur behind a cough, but Meredith catches it anyway.
“Just because I’m more interested in the art of taking off my clothes doesn’t mean I’m not smart,” she snaps.
I snort. “Mere, you’re as much of a virgin as I am, get off your high horse.”
Her cheeks flame. “It’s not my fault high school boys suck and don’t know what they’re doing. I’m not losing my virginity to a clueless imp, but that boy” —she looks significantly back at Spencer— “looks like he’d know what to do with his hands.” She makes a crude face and cups her breasts.
I dive across the table, swatting at her.
“Stop that,” I hiss. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“You’re no fun.” She frowns. “You should know by now I don’t care what people think of me.”
“And that’s your problem,” I tell her. “It makes you do things no sane person would ever do.”
She points her finger at me. “I never claimed to be sane.”
I shake my head as Spencer joins us and takes the empty chair beside me.
I hadn’t even realized Harlow had purposely sat beside Meredith so this space was empty. If I had, I would’ve demanded she sit by me. She smiles at me triumphantly from across the table like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Little traitor.
“My best friend’s parents own this place,” he muses, playing with his straw. “You met him. T.J.,” he adds to my blank look.
“Oh, right. We love this place.”
“Should we head to the beach?” he asks, looking at the three of us. “Hi, I’m Spencer.” He holds out his hand to Meredith.
She takes it with a smile like a snake about to devour its prey.
