Page 19 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“I thought you won.” My manager, Hank, was an avid Mavericks fan and felt the need to update me throughout the night, even though I’d specifically told him I didn’t care.
“Yeah, we did.” Walker scratched his head like he couldn’t figure out Ridge’s problem.
Troy clapped Ridge’s shoulder. “Our boy was on fire tonight.”
If ‘their boy’ lit a match, we’d all go up in flames.
“I played for you tonight, Evie. That win was all for you,” he slurred as his friends dragged drunk and disorderly to one of my booths.
I wanted to have him kicked out, but Hank would be more likely to get down on his knees and bow down to the almighty Ridge McCallister.
All hail the gods of the gridiron.
It was only October, but the school halls were buzzing with talk of going to the finals and winning the state championship. Our quarterback and number one wide receiver were labeled the Dynamic Duo.
If I had to listen to one more person telling me that Ridge was the best thing that had ever happened to our football team, I would gouge their eyes out with my fingernails.
A few more players and girls from the cheering squad came in and snagged booths in my section.
Gritting my teeth, I marched over to the booths occupied by the very people I went out of my way to avoid at school and took their orders.
Other than a few snide comments from Ainsley Thorpe, they mostly ignored me. I was a social outcast. By choice, might I add.
I served their food—burgers, fries, shakes—enough to feed a small army and promptly retreated. But not before noting that Ridge was oddly silent. He was usually the life of the party, full of swagger and bravado. But tonight, he looked all broody and moody even as his teammates rehashed the highlights of tonight’s game.
To hear them talk, you would think he was the Second Coming.
“Dude, how about that vertical leap in the third quarter? You must have been ten feet off the ground.”
“Caught the ball in one hand.” Walker thumped Ridge on the back.
“It was a wild ball,” Troy said with a shake of his head. “Never thought you’d catch it.”
Still, Ridge said nothing. His food sat untouched, and I’d be willing to bet he’d spiked his Coke with something more potent by the way he was sucking it down as if his life depended on it.
A little while later, I was wiping down a table across from their booth when Wade walked in and his booted feet stopped in front of me. Fuck my life. Because that was exactly what I needed tonight.
“What are you doing here?”
He lifted his cap, ran his fingers through his dark greasy hair, and jammed it back on his head. “Got a business meeting.”
A business meeting? Right. I didn’t even want to know what kind of business Wade was involved in, and I sure as hell didn’t want him conducting it at this diner. “On a Friday night?”
He hung his camo jacket on the back of the chair and dropped into it. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why don’t you find another place to conduct yourbusiness?”
“Bring me some coffee.” He peeled off the paper wrapper of a mint-flavored toothpick and used it to clean the dirt and grease under his fingernails. It turned my stomach. Wade was disgusting.
The only good thing about Wade was that I rarely saw him.
“And bring me some of that coconut crème pie while you’re at it.”
I was still trying to get rid of him, so I hadn’t moved from my spot next to his table. “Pie’s all gone.”
He looked over his shoulder at the glass case to confirm that the pie was gone. “Bring me some coffee.”
“You’d be better off down the road. Coffee sucks here.”
