Libby spins in her seat and catches Wyatt staring daggers. She turns back to me, rolling her eyes. “That girl can be a bit prickly,” she says, then leans across the table like she’s sharing a secret. “It’s because she’s had to take on so much.”
“She is very good at taking care of her people,” I say. “She’s been a great friend to my little sister.”
“Oh, Wyatt is a good friend to all. All but me, but I guess I have to earn that right back,” she says with a one-shoulder shrug. She picks at a cocktail napkin on the table, carefully shredding it into little bits.
Behind her, Wyatt huffs and spins on her heel, pushing through the door into the kitchen.
“She should be out here, not me,” Libby says. “She deserves some happiness. A little something good, if she’ll just let herself have it.”
“Oh?” I ask. I know Wyatt would sooner die than let me learn anything about her from her mother, but I’m desperate for Wyatt Hart lore. Absolutely starving for it.
Libby sees my obvious interest and smiles, abandoning her cocktail napkin. She leans toward me on her elbows. “You ever heard of that marshmallow test? Where the kids were offered a marshmallow but if they didn’t eat it right away, they got two?”
It’s a staple of freshman psych and often misinterpreted, but I know it. I nod.
“Well, Wyatt would wait for the second marshmallow and then give both to someone hungrier than her,” she says. I can tell she’s simultaneously proud and dismayed. “She’ll never put herself first, but she needs to. Not that she’d ever take my advice.” Libby leans back in her chair hard, huffing out a little breath. “And she probably shouldn’t, because what do I know about life?”
“Switch!” Mrs. Eberle calls.
“It was nice talking to you, Ms. Hart,” I say, still turning over this bit of information.
“Oh, please, call me Libby,” she says, then glances over at the bar, where Wyatt is back at the register, closing out a tab. “And good luck, honey.”
Before I can say anything else, Jasper Francis from the body shop is shuffling me to the next table so he can take my spot infront of Libby. I move down to the last chair, across from Delilah Perkins, who waits tables at Pete’s Diner. I’ve known her since we were kids. We graduated from CS High a year apart but spent a semester in the same gym class. She’s always been cute, a little nerdy, and totally in her own world.
“Hey, Owen,” she says with a warm smile. She’s got the same long dark hair and thick bangs she’s had since she was little, but the wire-framed glasses have been replaced with a cool pink retro pair that matches the color of her cheeks. “How’s it going?”
“Good, Delilah,” I say, crossing my leg over my knee and leaning back in my chair. My back is killing me. I try to keep up a semi-regular home yoga practice, but I’ve been sleeping like shit lately. Maybe I need a new mattress? Or a new pillow?
And then I remember that this is not the time to assess my sleep hygiene. I’m on a speed date with a beautiful woman, one of only two at this whole event who are in the same generation as me. And if the stubborn spitfire behind the bar is going to keep pretending I don’t exist, then I should at least try. So I put a smile on my face and try to focus. “How are you doing?”
She grimaces. “Ugh, completely exhausted. My feet are killing me. This is my first night off after a week of doubles.”
“And you’re spending it here?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at her. This speed dating event is for charity, and I’m here entirely against my will. Felix demanded we all show up, and I’m pretty sure he’s only here to get Keeley Wentworth’s number. I glance over at him and see him leaning across her table, a grin on his face as she tosses her head back and laughs. Every time a guy has tried to hustle him out of his chair, one stern look from Felix sends him on to the next open seat.
“Couldn’t miss the good company,” Delilah says. “I chatted with Mrs. Tingle earlier and got three new book recommendations! She’s got me into bully romance.”
I frown. “I don’t know what that is.”
“You don’t want to,” she replies with a laugh. Then she rests her hand delicately on my forearm, leaning in like she’s got a secret. But before she can get it out, the sound of a glass shattering fills the air.
“Wyatt, are you drunk?” Ernie calls from the other end of the bar.
I turn and see Wyatt reaching for the broom and dustpan. “No, just tired,” she grumbles. This is the second glass she’s broken tonight. The first was when Libby sat down across from me.
Ernie rolls his eyes. “Well, wake up, or I’m gonna start taking those out of your tips.”
I bring my focus back to Delilah, whose hand is still resting on my arm. She’s gorgeous, no doubt about that, with her shiny, deep chocolate hair and milky white skin, a gentle dusting of freckles across her cheeks. And she’s always been kind, ready to shut down mean girls who made fun of her friends for playing board games in the cafeteria. Speed dating is stupid, but I shouldn’t waste this opportunity in front of me by pining over a woman who’s made it very clear that nothing is going to happen between us.
“Sounds like your night’s turned around, then,” I say.
She smiles, then drops her voice to a whisper. “If I’m being honest, I actually just started seeing someone,” she says with a sheepish smile. “This woman I met at my D&D night in Bloomington. She’s great, and I think it’s going to be something.”
Well, there you go. Speed dating really is a total bust.
“Why did you come here, then?” I ask. “You don’t need to get propositioned by Jasper Francis just for fun!”
“Because I signed up for this the day before I met Kirsten, and Mrs. Eberle scares the shit out of me. I was too afraid to back out. Luckily there aren’t a whole lot of good candidates forme here. I mean, it’s clear Felix has a hard-on for Keeley, Archer looks like he’d rather be chewing glass, and Carson is terminally straight. You would have been my only hope,” she says. “But now I don’t need you!”