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“I'm just doing a little actual work,” I snapped. “Gotta help out before my spa appointment, right?”
“Dude,” Cason said. “What's your deal? We're just giving you shit.”
I turned back to them, my anger flaring. “Yeah, well maybe I'm getting sick of you two giving me shit,” I say. “Maybe, I'm sick and tired of you assholes walking around acting like you do all the work around here and I don't do shit.”
“Dude, c'mon,” Quinn said. “It's not like that –”
“No?” I turn on him. “Then how is it exactly?”
“C'mon, bro,” Cason said. “We're just screwin' around like we always do. We know you work hard to keep the Driftwood going.”
I look at both of them and see that my little outburst bothered them. Good. I get sick and tired of the both of them acting like I'm not doing anything just because I'm not lugging shit around to one event or another. The work I do for the Driftwood is important. And it's every bit as critical to keep it alive as Cason's cooking is. And it's high time both of them realize that – and appreciate all the shit I do for all of us.
“C'mon, man,” Quinn said, wrapping his arm around my neck. “Don't be such a whiny little bitch. Not today. Today's supposed to be fun!”
“Seriously, bro,” Cason said. “It's all good, man. We're just bustin' your balls.”
Slowly, the anger dissipated and then faded away completely. I couldn't stay mad at these assholes for long. It's just how we were wired – the Three Musketeers. We were always there for one another, through thick and thin. “Yeah, fine,” I said. “Just stop being such douchebags for a change.”
Cason shrugged. “It's in the McCormick blood, man,” he said. “I don't know what to tell ya.”
“Yeah, and Ben here seems to have gotten a double dose of it.”
I gave him the finger, but laughed, the tension that had saturated the air between us completely evaporating. I punched Quinn in the shoulder and shook my head.
“Come on,” I said. “Let's finish unloading the truck already. I have an appointment to get my hair cut in an hour.”
“I knew it,” Quinn said. “Such a prissy little bitch.”
CHAPTER FIVE – HAILEY
At the Bonfire...
The incredible aroma of the Driftwood BBQ filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. And my tummy growled loud enough that Jenn turned and looked at me with an amused expression on her face.
“Hungry?” she asked. “Maybe you should get you some good old-fashioned Driftwood BBQ.”
“Maybe, I should,” I said, taking a long sip from my sweet tea – something else I'd missed when I was in California. “Maybe, I'll do that.”
I looked over at the food truck, and as delightful as it sounded, the idea of running into familiar faces – other than Jenn's – filled me with a deep sense of unease. Especially, if those familiar faces belonged to the brothers who now owned the truck.
The McCormick brothers had never been mean to me – not like some of the others in my little hometown had been. We'd just never been exactly close. Cason was my age and had been my lab partner in Biology my sophomore year – not that I expected he'd remember that. And I'd had brief interactions with all three of them over my high school years.
But, it's not like we'd ever been friends. They ran in different circles than I had. They were the popular boys and I was the invisible girl. Hell, if I walked over to the truck and put in my order, they probably wouldn't even remember me. That's what I said to reassure myself once the hunger pangs got to be too much for me to bear any longer.
“Want anything?” I asked Jenn.
“Nah, I already ate,” she said. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye and her lips were pulled back in a salacious little grin. “But help yourself, darling.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You'll see,” she said giving me a suggestive little wink.
Shaking my head and chuckling to myself, I walked over and got into the long line of people waiting to place their order. Keeping my head down, I did my very best to avoid making eye contact with anybody or drawing attention to myself. I simply kept to myself with my hands in my pockets, and I slowly made my way to the front of the line.
The smell from the grill got stronger as I stepped closer to the window of the food truck and my stomach growled even louder and was more persistent than before. I was dying for some authentic Driftwood BBQ – yet, still a little reticent about seeing my old schoolmates. But I did my best to keep my emotions in check – and stop myself from bolting at the first sign of somebody I knew from back in the day.
I glanced over the heads of the people in front of me and saw two of the brothers working hard inside the truck. I could tell it was them just from the dark reddish-brown hair. The overhead fluorescent lights in the truck, danced off their hair, making the red stand out more than in natural light. One of them – I assumed it was Cason – had short clipped hair. It was almost a buzz cut really, with just a little on top. The other, which I thought had to be Quinn, had shaggy, choppy chin length hair that he had to keep pushing behind his ear – the same hairstyle he'd had back in high school.
