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But Ben just pushes the napkin closer to Lindy, giggling to himself.
“Her,” he finally says. “Can I get your autograph?”
He says it with that greasy, sneering tone known to bullies and seventh-grade desperados. I know that tone. I know exactly what he’s saying.
Before I know it, I am out of my chair. Ben flinches back.
“You need to go,” I inform him in a growl.
Spencer, Trevor, and Zeke stand immediately. One of them slides Lindy’s chair back so she is safely tucked away behind us.
“Come on,” Ben bawls. “She’s famous. And she’s right here, in our house! Lindy, right? Can’t you guys share?”
“Back it up, Ben,” I warn him, feeling that sick bile rising in my throat. “You need to turn around and go back where you came from.”
“Or what?” he blurts out, but then winces. His eyes dart among us as he takes in the sight. He is not a big guy. We would finish him in ten seconds. “Yeah, whatever,” he finally says when he wises up.
Tossing the napkin on the table as a last gesture of primitive aggression, Ben saunters back to his buddies at the other table.
“I will take care of that,” Spencer growls, flexing his wrists. “He just pledged last month, the little greaseball. Stupid fucking move.”
“Good call,” Zeke nods.
“Good call?” Lindy chimes in. “Hello? What even just happened? You guys were all in front of me. I couldn’t even see!”
“Right, that’s good,” Trevor nods.
“No, that’s not good to me!” she objects, her voice rising. “Did something… I mean, what was that?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, it’s handled,” I grumble.
She holds her hands up, palms out. “Okay, you guys. You know what?” she starts, her voice decisive and clear. “I’m not a fairy princess. I’m not a child. Don’t get me wrong, I love your teamwork and I love that you want to protect me, but you have to let me know what’s going on.”
Nobody says anything.
“Did you hear me?”
“We heard you,” Trevor confirms.
“Spencer? Didyouhear me?”
“Yes,” he answers after a long pause. “I heard you. You want to be kept in the loop.”
“Yes! Please!” she exclaims. “Now, what was that?”
We all look at each other uncomfortably. Finally, it seems like I need to speak up.
“I think we need to dig a little deeper into the BUST,” I admit. “It looks like maybe a lot of people are aware of you.”
She startles, her eyes flickering toward the jerks in the corner.
“Please don’t worry about them,” Spencer asks her, controlling the tone of his voice, but just barely. “They won’t bother you again.”
“So they… they’ve seen the pictures of me? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Showers and everything?” she swallows, hard.
