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“You’re all one and the same, so why does that matter?”
“Really? So, I’m my dad, my sister, and my mom, all at the same time? And what about everyone else? It wasn’t just my family that started TimeLand. Do you really think we’re all exactly the same people?”
“Yes, I do.”
I nod my head slowly, squinting my eyes like I’m trying to understand her. “So, Eli and Ben are just like me?”
“Ben, one thousand percent. You both are just party boys who don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Oh, really? Then, what are your thoughts of Eli?”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Eli is Eli. He never says anything anyway.”
“So then, he’s just guilty by default?”
“Exactly.”
“Then, fine. What do you have against Maya?”
Maya is the sweetest person alive, so I’m dying to know what Natalie has to say about her.
She sighs and rolls her eyes, knowing she has nothing to say. “Fine. There’s nothing wrong with her.” She’s quick to move on. “But you guys are some of the cockiest assholes in this town. Just like your parents.”
I lean in again. “Well, sweetheart, you’re wrong. I’m nothing like my parents, especially my dad, so maybe you shouldn’t pigeonhole people to a certain category before you actually give them a chance.”
“Oh, like you didn’t do the same with me? I saw you trying to get Mrs. Anderson to change partners, so don’t give me that bullshit line.”
“I knew you”—I point at her—“hated me.” I point at myself. “You and Thomas have made that very clear over the years, so I just went along with it and hated you guys too. Believe me, you didn’t make it difficult at all. I wanted to change partners because I didn’t want to deal with your drama due to that fact.”
“You’re so full of shit. Don’t try to blame this all on me.” She tries to blow me off.
My lips tilt up in a grin as I reach out my hand to her. “Hi. I’m Dalton Wick. I don’t think we’ve actually met.”
She crosses her arms and purses her lips. “Are you kidding me right now?”
I jerk my hand slightly to make sure she sees it, still holding it out for her to shake. “I’m not kidding. You’ve never actually met me. You have this preconceived notion of who I am in your head. And I’m fine with that. I don’t give a shit if you like me or not. But I won’t let you sit here and think things of me that aren’t true. Now, are you going to shake my hand and move on with this nonsense, or are we going to sit here and fight the entire period and not get anything done?”
She begrudgingly shakes my hand as she whispers under her breath, “Whatever.”
“Okay, now that we have introductions out of the way, tell me why you’re being such a bitch.”
Her eyes widen so big that I swear they might blow up into balloons that will float away.
I can’t help but laugh, then slide my head forward slightly with my eyebrows pulled up. “I’m kidding. Relax. I promise I’m not the asshole you’ve made me out to be in your mind.”
“Then, fine, tell me who you are so I can write this interview.” She opens her notebook and gets her pen ready to take notes.
In thought, I drum my fingers on the picnic table. “I like to cook.”
“Lame. Next.”
“Lame? Really? Do you cook?”
“Yes, of course I cook.”
“Yeah, but how many guys my age do you know who like to cook?”
“Whatever. I’ll write it down.He. Likes. To. Cook,” she says slowly as she scribbles it on her paper.
