Page 4 of Hot Girl Summer

What the heck just happened?

I tap him again. He turns around again, eyes narrowed and lips tightly closed.

Don’t unleash the wrath, I repeat in my head. But I’m gradually seeing red. “It’s blurry.”

“And?”

“And I was asking if you could take a few more that don’t leave me squinting.” I take a moment to adopt my fail-safe technique for getting my own way. First, a deep breath to calm and centre myself. Second, direct eye contact. If those two things fail, I can always fall back on flirting.

“There are over one hundred people in here, go ask someone else.”

Maybe not.

He turns back to his friends once again. I stand there, not moving, for what seems like an age. I look towards April and Stefan for reassurance, but they’re engrossed in animated conversation. I’m on my own with this asshole. Taking another deep breath, I summon the courage to tap him again, and this time when he turns around, his jaw is clenched tight and I can almost see the hot steam rising from his ears.

“Look, I’m trying to be polite here,” he says. “But your camera sucks.”

“Well, I’m sorry if my Android doesn’t live up to your superior iPhone, or whatever it is you have, but there’s no need to be rude.”

“I apologise,” he says, laying a hand to his chest. But something tells me that the gesture is far from sincere. “I can take some on mine and send them to you if you want?”

So that’s his game. Feign contempt, but have my picture on his phone to use for a pathetic little rage wank.

“Nice try, perv,” I say.

He laughs in disbelief, then shakes his head. “I don’t know what you think this is.” He gestures between us, “but don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t think this is anything. All I’m saying is you might want to brush up on your photography skills.”

“My photography skills are just fine, thanks. You need an upgrade.”

“Wow, a middle-aged white man who thinks he’s above me. How original.”

"Middle-aged?” he scoffs. “I’m thirty-nine, actually. So technically I’m a millennial. Maybe it’s hard to decipher what’s old and what isn’t when you’re an entitled, sophomoric child who measures her worth from Instagram likes. Are you even old enough to be in here?”

That’s it.

Raging heat floods my face and my heart threatens to burst my ribcage apart.

We stare each other down, locked in a staring contest for what seems like minutes. In all my twenty-six years I have never felt such a myriad of emotions in one moment. Anger, hurt, hatred, but I won’t dare move. The first to retreat is the loser, and I refuse to back down.

Chapter Two

“Hey.”

April’s calming voice resonates in my ear, and I snap my gaze away from those hazel green eyes. Without my tunnel vision, I remember where I am. April links my arm, tearing me away from possibly the rudest man I have ever met as he turns back to his friends.

“That guy. The fucking audacity.”

“What happened?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I asked him to take another photo and he just—”

“Forget about him. We’re supposed to be celebrating, right?”

In my absence, Ryan has taken up residence on the couch between Stefan and April, where I had originally been sitting. Scooting onto the end, I lean into the soft leather arm.

“Where’s Chrissy?” April asks.

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