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Ross reaches out and pets the dog?
??s head, rubs along the fur on its back. “Yeah, you’re all right, Buddy. Good dog. You waited for me, huh? Thought I’d have more food on me?”
The dog barks, and I blink. A stray dog, then, just like I thought at first, but Ross is feeding it.
“Tell you a secret, Buddy,” Ross is saying. “I got no friends. Never tried to make any. Thought, who needs that shit, right? People suck anyway.” He’s quiet for a few beats. “But you’re my friend. Know why? Because you and I, we got nobody else.” He pulls the dog closer, bends over it. “Nobody.”
Oh shit. What just happened. Tears roll down my face and I can’t stop them. What’s wrong with me?
Aw my heart.
Turning blindly, I walk back into the diner, trying to get my breath back and my thoughts straight. God, I can’t. I can’t do this. Can’t be so frigging stupid, can’t let my guard down. Sure this is sad, and sure Ross seems to have a softer side, a hurt side, but never forget, right?
You can’t.
He’s not a good guy. Dena may not have firsthand experience of the real Ross Jones, but I should never forget that I do, and that people don’t change.
But what if he has?
What if he has?
***
“Hey, how do I look?” Dena pouts her lips at me. “Like the color?”
It’s a bright pink lipstick that looks garish even in the dim lights of the diner but I shrug. “Looks all right, I guess.”
“All right? Just that?”
“I don’t know. Look, I’m gonna go check if anyone wants to order, okay?”
“Luna.”
I stop, dreading to look her in the eye. Afraid I may have tear stains on my cheeks, and the shadow of doubt in my gaze.
“What happened?” She glances at the customers at the tables, obviously decides nobody is in urgent need of a waitress, and drags me behind the bar. “I heard voices outside. Did you talk to Ross? He headed out right before you, out through the back.”
“No.”
“Luna, come on. Look, I know you hate it here. You hate Destiny, you hate all of us—”
“Whoa, hold your horses.” I take a step back, frowning. “I don’t... I don’t hate you. Or Destiny. What are you talking about?”
“You think I’m stupid? You were unhappy here, so you left, and you’re not back by choice. You’re itching to leave again.”
“I...” Hard to gainsay what is true. “Look, I didn’t talk to him, okay?”
“Okay.” She lifts her hands. “Okay, fine.”
“Some guys were beating him up. He’s all right,” I rush to add when her eyes go wide. “I wouldn’t be here talking to you if he wasn’t all right, no matter what you think of me. I’m not that kind of person.”
“No. no, Luna, that’s not...” She sighs. “I know you’re not. Guys beat Ross up all the time, okay? He kind of brought it on himself. Made everyone an enemy. But you... you have feelings for him.”
“I don’t.” It’s an automatic denial, repeated in my mind like a mantra every day and night—and again I have to ask myself why that should be necessary when it comes to a boy who hurt me.
“Be honest with yourself. You care. And you want him. You look and your pulse races and you feel faint and too hot and you want to talk to him and you want to touch him. Don’t you? Don’t you?”
“You don’t... understand.” The words clog my throat. They ache coming up. “People don’t change, Dena. He can’t change.”
