Page 213 of Call the Shots
Elijah swallowed his bite the wrong way. He coughed. “What?”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s…huh? Who?”
Sloane snuck a look at us, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not laughing, Eli. I don’t care about yourstupid plans, trying to make me jealous—give me back my charm.”
“Jealous?” Elijah tried to scoff. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“I know you took it!”
A waiter called Sloane over and she had to leave for another table, obviously not happy about it. Everyone turned to stare at Elijah.
“Iknew it!” Fridge slammed his fist on the table. “You’re not dating Willow. If you were dating her,orthat girl, you’d be bringing her everywhere! I knew it—Ifuckingknew it?—”
“Yeah.” Bear nodded. “That’s it.”
“Mm-hmm,” I confirmed.
“You two know?” Denali asked.
“I know too,” Montoya added.
“What?” Elijah jerked over. “You don’t know anything?—”
“We’re roommates, Elijah. I know where you hide the photos.”
Fridge choked on his drink. “Photos?”
“Uh-huh.” Montoya nodded. “They’re in his jacket’s inside pocket, he carries them everywhere.”
No one moved. I’d spent so much time with the boys, I could see the cogs moving behind their eyes. Messages were passed with only a raised eyebrow, a narrowed glance. Bear barked out Fridge and Nick’s names and they held Elijah down in his chair—it was that quick. Elijah swore at all three of them while Bear leaned over the table, rifling through his pockets.
Bear ripped out the photos and I couldn’t believe it.
They were clearly old photos of Elijah and Sloane and were painful to look at. Most of them had Sloane dodging the camera. The only ones where she wasn’t hiding were the ones where they were giving tipsy smiles at a bar or a party, and Sloane cozied up to him, eyes twinkling for the camera.
“Haha! We’re laughing like fucking hyenas, haha!” Elijah snapped, gathering up the photos. “So funny, I forgot to fucking laugh!”
Fridge put his head in his hands. “Now,thisis unhealthy.”
I took another bite of pizza. “Elijah, you’ve been on and off with Sloane for so long. When are you going to let this go?”
“Shit,” Fridge muttered. “I know where the charm is.”
Elijah’s eyes snapped to him. “No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m the goalie, I see everything. I always wondered why you spend so long on your laces.”
Elijah’s mouth fell open so fast, his jaw cracked. “I—I?—”
“Before practice, he loops it through his skate’s laces,” Fridge informed us. “Elijah, you need to give it back to her and leave this girl alone. Actually, if you don’t, I’ll tell her you have it, and you’ll have to give it back anyway.”
“Do you need a knife for your dinner?” Elijah spat. “Or do you want to use the one you buried in my back?”
“Okay, that’s enough, guys,” Denali warned. “Elijah and Sloane will work it out, we don’t need to do it for them.”
Another waitress came over with a strawberry milkshake, two straws, and gestured to our table. Bear crooked his fingers, motioning her closer, and she set it between us. Not only strawberry—but with rainbow sprinkles too.
