Page 52 of The Heartbreakers
Looking away from him, I dug back into the bag and pulled out the final sub. “Meatball melt,” I announced and handed it to JJ. He muttered something under his breath about the injustice, but took his food without further comment.
“Are there any napkins?” Alec asked as he tried to cut his sub in half with a plastic knife.
I dumped out the remaining contents of the bag. A wad of napkins fell out, along with a stockpile of little red packets. “What’s with all the ketchup?” I asked. It looked like the sub shop gave us enough tomato sauce to make it through the year.
“For my sub,” JJ said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
Xander made a face. “It’s totally gross. He puts it on everything.”
“Really?” I asked as I took a packet for myself. “That’s funny. Me too.”
JJ gave me a nod of approval. “Ketchup should be its own food group.”
“I used to eat it with a spoon when I was a little kid,” I admitted.
For the first time since we shot down his Thai food idea, JJ grinned. “I used to do that too! We should be ketchup buddies!”
“Just thinking about that makes me want to throw up,” Xander said. “Do you know how much sugar is in one of those little packets?”
“I’ve never met anyone who likes ketchup as much as me,” I told JJ, ignoring Xander.
“Well, I doubt that you like it as much asIdo,” JJ said and puffed out his chest.
“Wanna bet?”
He leaned across the table and narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re on.”
Fifteen minutes later, Oliver and Alec returned to the room with two economy-sized containers of ketchup from the hotel kitchen. Oliver set one down in front of JJ, while Alec put the other next to me. Xander went to the kitchen to get two spoons.
“All right,” Oliver said, sitting down between us. Something about the competition seemed to lighten his mood, like he’d forgotten about the tension between us. “Here are the rules. Whoever can eat the most ketchup wins and will be declared the biggest ketchup fan. This is not a race. Contenders will eat equal amounts of ketchup until someone gets sick and gives up. Are the rules clear?”
JJ and I both nodded, but I was worried that since he was bigger than me, he’d be able to eat more. The only advantage I had was that JJ had already finished his entire sub while I was starting on an empty stomach. “All right, ketchup lovers, grab your spoons.”
I picked up my utensil and dunked it into the thick, red goo.
When JJ and I shoveled the first spoonful into our mouths, Xander’s face turned green and he gave the rest of his salad to Alec. “That’s disgusting,” he said, trying not to gag.
After a few spoonfuls, JJ frowned. “This tastes funny.” I raised an eyebrow in response. Tasted fine to me.
“It’s a brand-new container of ketchup,” Oliver said. When he looked away, I saw his lips twitch.
Four spoonfuls of ketchup later, JJ reached for his soda. “Why is it so hot?” he asked, but he continued to keep pace with me. Soon JJ had finished his entire coke and his upper lip was glistening with a layer of sweat. Finally, he pushed his tub of ketchup away. “Someone tampered with this.” He looked at Oliver in suspicion.
“Are you giving up?” Oliver asked. He had a guilty smirk plastered across his face.
“No, I’m saying this wasn’t a fair competition. My mouth is on fire.”
“Sounds like an excuse,” Oliver said. “You’re too embarrassed to admit that a girl is going to beat you.”
This shut JJ up and he pulled the ketchup back over, but he only managed a few more spoonfuls before drops of sweat were running down his face. “I need water,” he gasped, pushing away from the table and rushing into the kitchen.
“Thank God,” I sighed and let my spoon clatter to the table. I loved ketchup, but I could barely manage another bite myself.
“And Stella Samuel is the winner!” Oliver said, shouting out my victory like a sports announcer. “The crowd goes wild!” Alec and Xander both cupped their hands around their mouths and imitated the roar of a packed stadium.
“What was in the ketchup?” I asked. JJ was bent over the sink with the faucet running, mouth wide open as he gulped down as much cold water as possible. Oliver pulled something out of his pocket, placed it on the table, and smirked. It was an empty bottle of hot sauce. I laughed. “You’re evil.”
“No, I’m an opportunist. I could never pass up the chance to mess with JJ.” The dimples from his smirk made me smile up at him for the first time since rehearsals, but then my phone buzzed.
