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Then again Dena did say he comes here sometimes. And doesn’t pay.
Typical, right? No-one’s surprised. Well, I am surprised, actually, that Mike allows it and doesn’t kick him out once and for all.
Does Mike know Ross is eating here for free? I doubt it, and I vow to tell him if I see him. Why should I let Ross take advantage of the place where I work? He’s taken enough advantage of people, of me, already. Screw him.
“What’s up? You look upset.” Dena is carrying two trays loaded with dishes, but still she stops to ogle Ross. “Come on, you think he’s hot, admit it.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes! Love and hate are sides on the same coin, you know.”
“Well, my side’s definitely leaning toward hate, if you wanna know.”
“You’re staring at him.”
“Am I?”
Oops.
“Luna...”
“I’m into Jenner, okay? Jenner, not Ross. In fact, scratch that, too. I’m not into anyone.”
“Okay...” She doesn’t look convinced. “Listen.” She leans toward me and whispers, “I thought you might want to know that I heard Ross is pierced down there.”
“What?” I can’t have heard her right. I must be hearing things.
“In his dick.”
Oh dear God. “I got it the first time. Why do you think I’d care?” I roll my eyes, annoyed, yeah, annoyed, that’s what I am—mainly at the small thrill that goes through me at the image.
Like, really? Come on, Luna. Who cares about Ross’s dick, who cares about Ross, period—and what the hell is wrong with me? I should decide how I feel, sort my thoughts, and for God’s sake, leave Ross in the rearview mirror.
It’s about time.
***
But the thought of him won’t leave me alone, following me home, following me to bed at night.
I’m going crazy, right? This isn’t normal. How can you be attracted to your greatest enemy? Can you both hate and want him at the same time?
Dena seems to think so.
Not that this is a new question. I mean, it’s hard not to fall for Ross Jones. Let me haste to clarify, that’s before you get to know him. Before he shows his mean streak, his twisted mind. But he’s always been handsome in a pale ivory-and-gold, Nordic-god way. Somehow aloof and distant, though he slept with half the school. All the girls wanted to be his girlfriend.
He never slept with them more than once, though. Screwed them and dumped them. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. And I always thought they were so stupid, so incredibly stupid—even as I looked, and sighed, and daydreamed about him.
Then his group turned their attention to me, and well, after that, the daydreams stopped, and turned into dreams of escaping this town, escaping him, and punishing him somehow.
I knew all along it was dumb. Punish him? How? And what good would it do? I needed to think of myself, escape Destiny, make a life somewhere far from here, from him. I imagined him continuing his reign of terror, bullying generations of
local children, sitting on a throne made of their frozen tears.
Or something.
But instead... “His dad tried to kill him.” Like I’m supposed to feel sorry for him. Whatever. I don’t, okay?
Still, I want to find out more about that. Maybe Dena knows?
