Score for Dad.
“What’s up?” Patrick asked, after the door wasclosed behind us.
“Do you see what she’s doing?”
“Who?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Are youtalkin’about Christine?”
“Yes!” I hissed, unable to understand how hecouldn’t see her blatant attempts at stealing him away.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’snothin’. She was justjokin’around.”
“She’s flirting with you!”
“Nah, she’s not.”
Dad swung the door open, poking his head in.“Hey Kinsey, can you hang out for a few minutes? I have a big order I could usesome help with.”
If there was ever perfect timing … “Right now?”Panic settled into my pores, making me sweat.
“Well, I don’t think they’ll want it tomorrow.So, yeah, right now. Patrick can wait, right, kid?”
Patrick nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll go hangoutside with Christine until you’re done.”
He bent to kiss my cheek and left without somuch as a bat of an eye at the discoloration of my skin, leaving me to curseoblivious boyfriends and backstabbing girls.
A few minutes seemed to last for hours as Istole numerous glances out the window at my boyfriend and apparent arch nemesis,sitting on a bench. With their backs to the store, I couldn’t see their faces,but I could see her leaning against his arm. I could see her flipping herdyed-black hair over her shoulder, throwing her head as she laughed. And withevery dip of her cheek against his shoulder, the temperature of my blood rosehigher.
“Dad,” I kept whining, and with everycomplaint, he replied, “Just a few more minutes, Kinsey. You’ll live.” I wasn’tone to disobey, and so, I continued to work, but I wasn’t sure I would continueto live with my blood reaching a point beyond boiling.
And then, the breaking point: I was in themiddle of closing a container of macaroni salad when I watched with horror, thewitch of River Canyon leaning in, catching my boyfriend off-guard as sheattempted to kiss him. He jumped up from the bench before her poisoned lipscould press against his, and I dropped the lid to the floor, running around thecounter to rush outside.
“What the hell, Christine!” Patrick shouted,and whirled around to see me, standing behind him with fists clenched at mysides. “She tried to kiss me!”
“He’s lying,” Christine said coolly, smoothingher hair.
“No, he’s not,” I spat at her.
She rolled her eyes. “Ofcourseyou’d take his side.”
“I saw you!” I was on the verge of screaming,my hands shaking at my sides.
“Fine, okay. So, what? What are yougonnado about it?”
I wanted to cry. I had trusted her. We hadshared things, stories, secrets. I had seen friends come and go throughout mylife, but not once had I been stabbed in the back.Neverbeforehad someone made such an effort to take something—someone—thatwas mine.
“Screw you,” I said, my voice betraying myattempt at strength.
“Oh, that really hurts,” she snorted.
Patrick put a protective, possessive arm aroundmy shoulders. “Go home, Christine.”
“Come on, Patrick. You’re telling me that youwould rather be with a loser like her?”
Before Patrick could even open his mouth,before he could defend my honor, my father revealed that he had been standingbehind us.
