But apparently, what Liam said did the trick. Tyler takes a step back.
“It wouldn’t even be a challenge to kick your ass,” hemutters. He moves past Liam to get back to his seat, but I notice this time he makes an effort to avoid touching him.
Liam drops back into the seat next to mine. There’s a satisfied look on his face. A secret smile plays on his lips.
“I think you just scared the shit out of Tyler,” I comment.
Liam shrugs. “Yeah, well. He’s a jerk.”
“Didn’t you guys used to be friends?”
“No. Not really.”
But that’s a lie. Everyone knows that Tyler and Liam used to be tight. Still, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it anymore, and that’s fine with me. I didn’t come here to talk about Tyler Martinson. I came here to spend time with Liam.
The waitress brings two straws for our milkshake. I wish we only had one straw, so Liam and I could have shared. But two straws are nice too. I try to time it so that I am taking a sip at the same time he is so our faces are inches apart.
“I love the milkshakes here,” Liam says.
His leg is pressed against mine and so is his upper arm. If we weren’t surrounded by other kids from track team, I wonder if he’d try for a kiss. The thought of it makes my heart nearly beat out of my chest.
But before I can get too excited, my phone starts ringing in my pocket. I recognize the ringtone. It’s mymother.
Great.
“Hang on.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, which was a present for my birthday last year. But my mom put all these restrictions on it, so I can’t play too many games or watch YouTube. Oh, and there’s GPS tracking. So that she can know where I am at every single moment of the day. Seriously, why doesn’t she just put a microchip in my head? “Hi, Mom.”
“Olivia,” Mom says. “Are you still at that diner? It’s getting late.”
Sheesh, sheknowsI’m still at the diner. She’s got that GPS thing on my phone.
“It’s not that late.” I look down at my watch and then out the window. “It’s not even dark yet.”
“How are you planning to get home?”
“Um.” I glance at Liam, who has his eyebrows raised. “I’ll just walk.”
He’ll walk me home. I’m sure of it.
“Walk!” Mom says it like I suggested zip-lining home. “Out of the question! I’ll drive over and pick you up.”
“Mom!” I try not to sound too whiny, but Ireallydon’t want her to pick me up. Not now. Not when things are goingsowell. “It’s still really early. Can’t I stay? Please?”
“Don’t you have homework to do?”
“I did it at school.” (That’s a lie. There was no way I could concentrate on my homework when I knew Liam and I were about to have our first almost-date.)
Mom is quiet for a moment, thinking it over. I keep my fingers and my toes crossed that she says I can stay.
“No,” she finally says. “I’m going to come get you now. I want you home before it gets dark.”
“But Mom—”
“Not negotiable, Olivia.”
“Fine,” I grumble.
If Liam weren’t right next to me, I probably would have fought harder to stay, but I don’t want him to hear me fighting with my mother. You know—one of those fights where I explain to her that I am not a baby and she’s being absolutely ridiculous. Those can go on for a while, and I’ve noticed they don’t usually end well for me.
