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And I'm the one who needs to get with the program.
With my head hung low, I fiddle with my food while Kyle tries to entertain me. When he sees that I'm not the talkative type, he starts a conversation about basketball with the two guys across from us wearing the same letterman jacket he is.
God, I wish Daisy had the same lunch hour I have.
I could use her as an excuse to get up and walk away from this wretched table.
Twenty minutes.
That's all the time I'm going to give this awkward lunch. Twenty minutes should suffice to appease Kyle and not have him be offended by my bailing.
Satisfied with that plan, I inwardly start counting down the minutes while playing with the food I have no intention of eating.
But then it happens.
A nagging feeling that this awkward lunch is about to get a whole lot worse.
I lift my head and discreetly look over to where Noah is seated, knowing he's the only person here who could make my life difficult. His eyes are no longer on me but on a familiar redhead that is sashaying past our table. His smug smile is all the coaxing she needs to come and talk to him.
It doesn't take long to realize where I know her from. She's the waitress from The Scarlet Letter Café. The same waitress I saw on her knees for Noah.
It's only when she gets close enough that I see her staring at the raven-haired girl sitting beside Noah with apprehension. When said girl rolls her eyes at her and dismisses her presence by continuing to talk with her friends, does the redhead eat the distance between her and Noah.
"Ah shit. Things are about to get heated." Kyle laughs beside me.
"Why?" I ask curiously, not bothering to look at him since I'm too focused on Noah and his hookup talking to one another.
"See the girl sitting right next to your brother? The one with the high ponytail to show off her Tiffany diamond studs? That's Noah's girlfriend, Stacy. Or maybe she's his ex now. You never know with those two."
My jaw goes agape at this piece of gossip. So much so that instead of me staring at the redhead blatantly flirting with Noah, I’m far more interested in Stacy, who doesn't seem to mind that another girl is talking to her boyfriend in such an intimate way.
It’s only when Noah crooks his finger to the waitress, ordering her to bend down so she can get close enough for him to whisper in her ear, that Stacy ends whatever talk she was having with her friends to listen in on what he's saying. Whatever he says can't be good because both girls start to stare at me for some reason. While the waitress looks embarrassed by what he just told her, with the way her cheeks flush all sorts of red, Stacy seems disgusted.
Noah, though… looks like the cat who got the cream.
The waitress quickly retreats from the table, rushing away like she can't get far fast enough. Stacy, however, stays seated precisely where she is, throwing me an ugly smirk and whispering in her friend's ear. Her friend's eyes widen as she stares at me, and before I know it, she’s whispering to the girl sitting beside her, too.
It all feels surreal, this juvenile game of telephone.
And it was all provoked by something Noah said to the redhead, loud enough that he knew Stacy would pick up on it.
What did he say?
What the fuck did he say?
But just as the question pops into my head, Stacy’s quick to clarify for me.
"Stalker!" she shouts while pretending to cough out the word.
The tip of my ears begins to heat when everyone around the table takes Stacy's cue and begins to cough out the word 'stalker.' They don't even have the decency to pretend they aren't talking about me, staring directly at me as they laugh away at my ridicule.
Stalker.
That's Noah's favorite word for me.
All because I caught him with his pants down, literally.
He was the one in the ladies' bathroom getting off, but I'm the one being judged for it.
