Page 62 of Sparks Fly
They both hung up, and Stella made herself face Effie again.
“So this is happening, then?” she asked.
“Yep,” Stella said. “Can you text Kira? Maybe she can get there before us and let us know if it’s crowded.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Effie said with a mock salute.
“Literally, why are you like this?”
“First of all, you say that all the time,” Effie said. “And secondly, you’re the one who’s been talking like a twenty-seven-year-old woman with no money and no prospects all day.”
Stella whirled on her. “See, you love it, too!”
Effie didn’t even look up from her phone. “Of course I love it. I’m not a heathen. Some of us can love things and not make it our whole personality.”
Stella flipped her off, but Effie didn’t even acknowledge it as they made their way to the train.
Thirty
When Max arrived at the restaurant, it became clear to him that he should’ve prepared for battle.
Or at the very least, he should’ve come with some kind of defense strategy prepared.
From the moment he slid into the booth beside Stella, he could feel her friends’ eyes on him. Directly across from him was the woman he’d seen at Yellow Sparks, although today her blue hair was braided down into two large cornrows so her death glare was quite visible, even behind her glasses. Her name was Effie. To her right was Kira, a light-skinned self-proclaimed Nuyorican who was loud, spoke fluently in Spanglish, and talked a lot with her hands. If Max had to choose between the two, he was leaning toward Kira, but perhaps this was intentional on their part. Because just as Max was beginning to relax, the questions began.
“So, Maxwell,” Kira said. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, her chin resting on her interlocked fingers.
“It’s Maximo, actually,” Max corrected.
He exchanged a knowing glance with Stella, and she smiled, leaning into him. Max couldn’t resist inhaling the scent that seemed to waft off her hair. It wasn’t lavender like before. This was less flowery, more subtle. Maybe coconut? He’d have to ask her later.
“Ay, stop making googly eyes at each other and pay attention,” Kira said.
Max cleared his throat and Stella sat up straighter, her shoulder moving away from where it had pressed into his. He missed her touch instantly, but under the table their legs were still pressed together, and he reached over to take her hand in his.
“Sorry, you were saying?” Max asked, focusing his attention on Kira.
She threw a sideways glance at Effie, who then rolled her eyes. Apparently, that was Kira’s signal to proceed.
“What are your intentions with Stella?”
“Kira,” Stella said in admonishment.
“It’s a valid question,” Kira said. “You’ve been fucking—”
“KIRA!”
“—for a while now, no? Where is this going? What do you intend to do with Stella besides take her to your bed?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stella hissed under her breath. “You do not have to answer that, obviously.”
“No, it’s okay, I want to,” Max said.
He gave Stella’s hand a little reassuring squeeze under the table, but that didn’t seem to ease the anxiety that was clear on her face, so he hoped what he had to say would help. Although the truth was, he wasn’t sure what Stella wantedto hear. He knew what he wanted, though, so he went with that.
“My intentions are to continue getting to know Stella, for as long as she’ll let me,” Max said. “And not just in bed, as you so eloquently put it.”
If Kira took offense at the dig, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded appreciatively at Max.
