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“What, pray tell, is your great idea now, oh captain?”
“So glad you asked, Mahoney.” I chuckle at the way he glares. “My proposal is a good ole round of pool.”
“Oh.” Nate leans back. “I was expecting something spicier.”
“Like what?” I cock an eyebrow.
His cheeks get suspiciously dark.
“Oh, does someone have the hots for a Strike?”
“Never.” Nate enunciates the last r in a way only a Spanish speaker can.
“Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much,” Conor says in a singsong voice. “Which one is it, Garcia?”
It better not be Tinker Bell.
I force myself to take several deep breaths. It’s not like she’s mine. Everyone’s free to have the hots for her. In fact, not having the hots for her is what’s ridiculous. And she’s free to take her pick of suitors. Nate would be a good candidate. He’s half Mexican, and though he’s a bit eccentric, he’s a good guy.
But I’m better.
Or am I? I would be, if I wasn’t about to turn into a Neanderthal all on my own.
“Uh.” He clears his throat. “That girl just catches my eye. I’m not saying I’m love or anything?—”
“Which one, man?” I ask with a tad more bite than necessary.
Nate glances over his shoulder once more. “The one in the red top.”
Red top? I glance at the Strikes’ table again and?—
Hallelujah! Tinker Bell is wearing the school colors, black and blue.
“Brit Thomas, huh?” Conor waggles his eyebrows.
“Shut up.”
Fortunately, I get to live with my own embarrassment in secret. They don’t need to know that I’m so relieved it’s almost as if my soul returned to my body from a long trip.
“Let’s go, we’re going antagonizing.” I get up from my chair.
“Wait, we’re really doing this?” Conor asks.
“Aw, yeah.” Nate pumps a fist.
Brett’s right. Collectively, right now, the three of us have only one brain cell.
The first one who spots our approach is the captain of the Strikes. The easy smile falls off her face, and is immediately replaced by weariness. In contrast, my mood lifts higher and higher the more steps I take.
Nate beats me to the punch. He leans on their table and says, “Evening, señoritas.”
A round of scoffing greets him. I, too, want to laugh at him. But I’d never do that to my buddy. At least not in front of his crush. But after this, I plan to make his ears bleed.
Tinker Bell sits in a corner, on the side of the table closest to us. Slowly, she looks up at me. Funny how I’m no longer annoyed, huh?
“What are you bunch of fools doing here?” JT Brewer says in greeting.
With a smile, I say, “I was just thinking?—”
