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Interrogating my boss doesn’t sound like a good idea, though, so I return inside and help Dena close down the shop. We haven’t talked much since I found out she’s dating Jenner, and she seems to be avoiding me as well, as much as you can avoid the only other waitress in a small diner full of customers.
She sniffs in my direction when she sees me, grabs her purse and denim jacket, and heads out front.
I sigh as I go grab my stuff. Truth be told, I’m sorry for this rift between us. I’d started to consider her a friend, despite the brief time I’ve worked here and my past experiences with the people of this town. I thought it’d be different with her.
And what if it is? I walk out onto the street, glancing around in case I see her. It’s in your hands, I tell myself. Stop letting yourself be the victim. She didn’t like you butting into her personal business, and she may be right, despite how you feel about Jenner. Jenner never did anything worse than be slightly weird. Trying to look like Ross is understandable. After all, Ross is the best-looking guy in town.
I could apologize. Clear this thing up between us.
But instead of her, I find Ed coming right at me. I jerk back when I recognize him. He’s a tall guy, strong. Not as strong as Ross, but I’m no match for him. At least his friends are not with him today.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“Me? Nothing. What would I want with a fat, ugly slut like you, huh?”
I barely flinch at the slur. In fact, I’m starting to get angry. Maybe some of Ross’s darkness is rubbing off on me. “That’s all you got? No imagination. Get out of my way.”
“Now, what’s the rush?” He crowds me against the mouth of another alley, smirking. “You may be ugly, but you have your uses.”
“Get out of my face before I start screaming, and I know for a fact there are people around at this time of day.”
He hesitates, uncertainty flitting over his stupid face. “Bitch.”
“Douchebag.”
He glances around him, and I see the moment he decides I’m not worth the trouble. “Your precious Ross is not around to save you this time.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“Soon he’ll be back in prison where he belongs, just like his dad. He isn’t as good-hearted as you seem to think, stupid girl. By the time you realize it, it’s gonna be too late.”
I glower at him. “What the hell does that mean? And what’s going on between you and Mike?”
His eyes dart toward the diner. “Nothing.”
“Since when are you two buddies? What’s going on, Ed?”
“None of your goddamn business.” He jabs a thick finger at me, and scowls. “Keep your damn nose out of it, you hear? Don’t go meddling in other people’s affairs.”
“Funny, coming from you,” I shoot back, but he’s already turning away. I watch him stalk across the street and into a side street, vanishing from view, and I lean back against the wall to steady myself, my knees suddenly kind of weak.
I’m not letting any bully get to me again. I’m not a weak little girl, and if I’m not thin like a supermodel, all the better. At least my phone can’t fall through my thigh gap, and I’m not here to sell beauty products. I’m here to live my life, be happy, be surrounded by people who appreciate me as I am... and Ross.
/> Ross thinks I’m pretty, and that’s the only opinion I need. Who cares what Ed or anyone else thinks of me? If my guy likes me the way I am, then I’m good. He’s the only one that matters, anyway.
On shaky legs, I make my way home and shut myself up in my room until I can get myself under control. Don’t want Dad or Josh to see me like this, and Ross...
I should tell him about this, about what Ed said, about him and Mike talking...right? I think about it, lying on my childhood bed, staring up at the glowing stars of the ceiling, comparing them to the real ones that I gazed at, in Ross’s arms. Twinkling stars, and the milky way.
Would I be worrying him for no good reason?
What Ed told me sounds like empty threats and insults, but something tells me there might be more to it. No idea what.
And what if I tell him what happened and he goes off to beat Ed up and ends up in jail? Of all the things Ross has recounted from his past, going to prison seems to be the one thing he dreads. Something happened to him there, I can tell. Whenever he starts telling me about it, he sort of... stops cold, and his eyes go flat and wide.
Crap. I’ve heard horror stories about prisons and the lack of discipline inside. I don’t want to know what happened to him in there—and I can’t help but hope he’ll tell me about it. It feels like the last missing piece of the puzzle, though if he doesn’t want to, then of course that’s okay. I wouldn’t want him to relive any of that hell for my sake.
Dad is calling my name and I sigh, rolling off the bed and to my feet.
