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“Hey,” he says to me, nodding as he passes our table.
“Hey,” I say back.
Frankie asks, “Isn’t that the guy who rammed into you?”
“Yeah.” I smile, my heart going nuts. “It is.”
Spiky Guy and his two friends get slices from Sbarro.
They sit close to us. Celeste now perks up.
“I think they want to talk to us,” she says, her eye on
Spiky Guy’s dark-haired friend.
Frankie says, “That guy with the shaggy hair is kinda
cute.”
I feel my blood pulse through my ears. Spiky Guy finishes
the last of his pizza, stands up, runs one hand through
his hair, and walks straight for me. For me.
“I’m Justin,” he says.
I try to tell him my name, but my throat is closed.
“She’s Ruthie,” Celeste says, “I’m Celeste, and this is
Frankie.”
“Cool.”
Justin stands still for a moment. He looks at his huge
white sneakers. Then back at me. Celeste wipes the corner
of her mouth to make sure all traces of Rootbeer Float are
gone. Frankie glances over at the guy with the shaggy curls.
I try not to feel the strand of hair that’s now stuck to my
sweaty neck. Suddenly, Justin looks as though he may leave.
“I’m from Odessa,” I blurt out.
He says, “I live in Smyrna.”
Smyrna is about halfway between Odessa and Dover.
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