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“Not much.”
“You act like you’re sixty. How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“Ah, an older man. I’ve always liked them a bit older.”
Is he flirting with me?
“What are you doing?”
He grins. “I’m twenty-three, so you’re not that much older.”
“I didn’t ask.” But it’s information I tuck away anyway.
“You wanted to know.”
I hate him.
“Okay, well, thanks for talking shit about my phone, calling me old, and not really helping me at all.”
I turn and walk away, and I make it two steps outside before the door opens. “Sir,” he says, putting on a show for anyone listening. “My card.” He slips the cardstock in my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. “Call me if you need help with the new phone, or,” his eyes lock onto mine for a few seconds, “anything else.”
I take the card and shove it in my pocket before walking to my car.
ChapterSix
Eight days go by and I still haven’t heard back about my phone. I know it might take a while, but just like everyone else in this fucking world, I’ve become attached to it. I regularly reach into my pocket just to pull out a flip phone that doesn’t offer me the ability to check the weather, news, or email.
I’ve caught a few glimpses of Kaspian here and there, but we haven’t talked, and I’ve yet to see him with another girl. I wonder if he did anything with the one from the bar. Does he keep them alive awhile before disposing of them? Maybe he’s been preoccupied with one.
“Hey, Ezra. What can I get you today?” Shevon asks as she approaches my table at Thai Me Down—a, you guessed it, Thai restaurant.
“Let me get the pineapple fried rice and fried prawns.”
“You want anything else to drink besides water?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks, Shevon.”
She smiles and nods, walking away.
I never thought I’d be one of those people who live in a town where you become a regular at almost every business. Where people know your name and you know theirs. These types of towns are known for being gossipy. Everybody knows what everybody else is doing. Take for example, Kathy and Bill over there. I know Bill’s cheating on Kathy. Kathy knows too. She hates him for it, but she won’t leave him simply because she won’t give him up to the other woman. Marco in the corner is struggling with addiction to painkillers. His mom kicks him out of her house at least twice a month. Jeremiah sits near the window, his laptop open, probably doing some schoolwork. He was just accepted into Dartmouth, and his mom tells everyone she comes across.
What do people say about me, I wonder?
When Shevon returns with my food, she places the plates in front of me before cocking her hip and crossing her arms. “So, I heard Jimmy from the theater took off. Up and left town. Didn’t even tell his girlfriend. Ain’t that some shit?”
See?
“Really?” I ask, needing to fit in. Needing to pretend. “That’s weird, isn’t it? Why would someone just run away?”
Shevon’s head swivels around, her shoulder-length curly hair bouncing with the move. Her voice lowers to a whisper. “People who run away like this have to be running from something. He must’ve done something bad.”
“Like what?”
“Heard he got caught with some seventeen-year-old girl at the theater.”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
