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Eric was waltzing up to their table, and plopped himself down beside Tara, throwing his arm over her shoulders the same way Pierre always did with me. He must’ve been in the bathroom, because now I noticed the three sets of plates on the table. They were dining together.
Was I dreaming?
High?
Biting my tongue, I turned back around, placed my elbows on the table and buried my head into my arms.
“I think I’m sick,” I muttered. “And exhausted.”
Leo, faithfully the watchdog, kept his chin raised as he continued to watch the spectacle unfold. He relayed the information to me and Elliot with the tone of a newscaster.
“Young man leans in to give friend of Kat a light kiss on the forehead—just enough to make a certain someone jealous—who, I don’t know, but someone—and friend of Kat returns the favor while ex-roommate leans in to say something.”
“Her name’s Tara,” I said, rolling my eyes, before he could go on.
He went on.
“Tara pushes whats-his-name out of his seat and squeezes out of the booth. Ex-roommate hands something to, um, Tara, looks like an envelope, or something. Both Tara and roomie leave the diner.”
He paused there, and I waited impatiently for him to continue.
“Roomie comes back,” Leo said slowly, drawing his brows together. “And … kisses … him?”
“What?” This time, I had no shame in turning around and staring. There they were, Vivian and Eric, flat-out making out in the booth with Tara gone. It almost made me want to yell, “Get a room,” it was so cliché. So pathetic of them.
What the hell was going on?
Everything Tara had told me—about Vivian ruining her chances at art school, her being bullied just like me … was it all fake? Or were they really still friends?
Was she with Eric, or not?
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was all a setup—something Tara was doing for someone else’s sake in addition to her own. And yet, it didn’t feel right. I knew she had a genuine crush on the guy. She wasn’t the type to fuck around with feelings.
The waiter came over to our table before any one of us could openly process what just happened. I ordered us three glasses of water and a family-sized serving of fries to start myself off. I was going to need it.
Or maybe not. Something was going on—something suspicious—but I would reach out to Tara later. I needed to speak with her one on one. After all, if Eric really was cheating on her without her being aware of it, then it was my responsibility to tell her. I couldn’t let her get hurt like this.
“So,” I said, leaning a bit toward Elliot’s shoulder, “we know the meaning behind that tat.” I nodded at the bandaged dagger in his arm. “What about the dragon?”
I wanted to switch the subject and avoid thinking about Vivian as much as possible. Of course, doing so was easier said than done when I could hear her annoying, high-pitched voice just yards away.
He seemed to bristle at my slight touch, and it made me lift my hand to push back some of his already-short hair as if to admire his inked skin. It always baffled me that his parents had allowed him to get tatted as a minor. Even if he hadn’t been a bully, bringing him home would’ve made my mom nuts—he wasn’t exactly goody-two-shoes material. In other words, he was no Pierre.
Still, it was hot.
Elliot shook his head, as if being reminded of a bad memory. “It’s probably the best mistake I’ve ever made,” he murmured, turning so that his body fully faced me. “Besides picking on you.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help wishing I could just pull him away from here, out everyone’s sight, and do what I wanted with him. Two days was too long.
“Oh yeah?” I replied.
“It was done for free by a friend of mine. My parents didn’t know, and when they found out, they totally flipped out,” he explained. “But maybe that was part of it. I wanted to do something to get them angry. It was cathartic, I guess.”
I nodded, trying to fill in the gaps between the lines, and gave up when I figured there were things he wasn’t ready to tell me. Probably had a good reason for it, too. I’d respect that for now.
“Which friend was this?” I asked, genuinely curious. Was there a fourth rich boy I needed to be wary of?
Elliot smirked at me. “You don’t know her. At least, not yet.”
