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“Josh,” I say, trying to diffuse the tension that’s erupted. “You should go find Lacey. She’s probably looking for you.”
“I doubt it. I think she’s with Kevin now.”
“Kevin?The baseball coach?”
“Yeah.” He motions behind him. “They’re over there dancing.”
I look back and see Lacey slow-dancing with Kevin, her arms hooked around his neck.
“Why is she dancing with Kevin? What happened?”
“She thinks I’m still hung up on Nina so she moved on with someone else.”
“Why does she think you still like Nina? Did you say something?”
“No. She said she could tell because I kept looking at Nina and not listening to whatever it was she said. I didn’t think I was doing that but I guess it’s possible. It’s kinda hardnotto look at her in that dress she’s wearing.”
“So is Lacey right? You want Nina back?”
He chuckles. “Even if I did, she wouldn’t agree to it. When Nina makes her mind up about something, she doesn’t go back.”
“She might if you tried a little harder.”
“Did she say that?”
“No. But you know Nina. She doesn’t like to make things easy. If you put in the effort, I think she’d come around. And if not, just sheer persistence would do it. You could wear her down to the point she’d go out with you again.”
“Huh.” He rubs his chin. “You might have a point there.”
“Touch me again and your balls will be up your ass!” we hear a girl yell. It’s Nina. I can tell without even looking.
“Sounds like your girl could use some help,” I say to Josh.
He laughs. “I think she’s got it under control.”
I turn and see a guy on his knees, doubled over in pain. Nina is storming away from him, a drink in her hand.
“On second thought, you might want to wait a few minutes for her to cool down before going over there.”
“I can handle it,” he says, walking off. “I’ve seen worse than that from her.”
“She’s crazy,” I say to Kyle, laughing.
“No offense, but I can’t say I’m liking your friends too much. And I’m pretty sure they don’t likeme.”
“They’re just being cautious and watching out for me. If you spent more time with them, they’d like you.” I slip my hand in his. “Let’s get some food. I’m starving.”
We go up to the food table and Kyle buys our meals. The suggested donation is ten dollars a person, but Kyle drops a fifty dollar bill in the jar.
“Thank you!” Mary Oberson says. She’s an older woman who’s supervising the food table. She’s also the kindergarten teacher at the local elementary school.
“The food looks great, Mary,” I tell her.
“Oh, I didn’t make it. I’m just helping to serve.” She points to Kyle, who’s walking away. “Who’s the young man?”
“Kyle. He’s new in town. He’s a writer, here to finish his novel.”
“How exciting!” Her eyes widen. “A writer! Has he been published yet?”
