Chapter 10
June
“What’d you say their names were?”
I was in the car with my mom, and it was like I was in third grade again.
“Amelia, Poppy, and Ari.”
“And they’re all girls?”
“Mom.”
I shouldn’t’ve lied, especially not before seeing a guy I just met, but if I’d told her I was going out with someone of the opposite sex, I’d have shot myself in the foot.
I crossed my fingers, hoping that William wasn’t a serial killer. Mom stopped in front of Tropical, looking at me suspiciously.
“Where are they?”
“Twenty-twenty-five called, Mom. Where do you think they are? They’re waiting for me inside.”
“Eleven thirty.”
I opened the door and jumped out.
As I walked into the game room, I was bombarded with lights and trippy colors. Guys and girls were drinking and leaning against the pool table; others were lining up for the bowling alley. It was a little crowded, but all in all the chatter was pleasant. I saw a few familiar faces in the crowd.
I saw someone wave then heard William’s voice. “June, I’m right here! I’m happy to see you.”
His voice mingled with the background noise as he came toward me. I smiled back at him.
He was wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt that peeked out from under an army-green jacket. He looked even hotter than usual.
I looked around a bit and ascertained that there was no trace of any of his friends.
“Come on, let’s sit down,” he invited me, motioning to a small, secluded table.
This part of Tropical looked like a classic ’50s diner, with red-and-black checkered tablecloths and an array of stools at the counter.
“Did your mom drive you?”
“Yeah.” I sat down and realized we were alone.
“What’s she like?”
“Crazy.”
My answer made him raise an eyebrow.
“I mean, she’s an artist,” I explained.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. I’d never been alone with a guy, even at school. It was my first date.
“Interesting. What kind?” he inquired attentively.
He was making small talk, but the way he made eye contact with me made him seem genuinely interested.
The idea that our date was a joke had crossed my mind more than once. But in that moment, while I was with William, I started believing that he was serious.
“She does contemporary art with some realist inspirations.” I pulled out the adjectives I’d heard a million times during my mom’s exhibitions.
“So, in laymen’s terms, cool stuff,” he said as he leaned toward the counter, hoping to get a waiter’s attention to bring us a menu.
“Weird stuff,” I corrected.
“I thought so. And tell me, was it just the two of you who moved here? Are you an only child?” Did we really have to broach this subject on our first date?
Poor William didn’t know what kind of brutal, boring drag my life was, and I had every intention of sparing him the details.
“My dad remarried. He still lives in Virginia.”
“Were you born there?”
“Yeah. Can we talk about something else?”
“I’m sorry. Shall we order?” I saw him motion to the waiter, who brought over a laminated menu.
“I’m open to recommendations,” I announced after skimming the bizarre milkshake names.
“They make a great chocolate shake here. But maybe you’d prefer something lighter,” he guessed.
“Oh, twist my arm why don’t you. Milkshake it is,” I exclaimed impulsively. William stared at me, intrigued.
“You should know it’s so big that it’s in The Guinness Book of World Records. But you’d set the record for the first girl to ever take on a challenge like that if you finish it.”
“I’m up for the challenge! So, tell me something, do you like playing football?” I tried to change the subject.
He laughed. “I hate football.”
“Really?”
William drummed his fingers on the table nervously without looking at the menu. “I’ll have a juice.” He ran his fingers through a lock of his hair.
“Do you ever drink?” I didn’t care about being nosy. I was there to get to know him.
“No. Actually—” I saw him crane his neck. He kept massaging it with his fingertips. “It depends. But not now,” he hedged mysteriously.
“You don’t like it?”
William glared at me. “I just can’t.”
“Because of football?”
I must’ve pushed too hard because he stood up.
“I’m gonna order. There are lots of people here. If we wait, they’ll never get to us.” Perplexed, I watched him walk away. It seemed like his mood had changed suddenly, but that might’ve just been my imagination.
I sank into the back of the chair, trying to relax. Billie Eilish was blasting from the jukebox, but I could still hear voices in the distance.
“You fucked her in my car, James?”
I whirled around and caught sight of Jackson’s blond hair sticking out from the crowd.
“So?”
I trembled when I heard that raspy tone.
“So what if I did?” snarled James. I spread out on the booth hoping they wouldn’t realize I was there.
“Well, look who’s here,” Jackson commented as the two passed by my table.
Hunter didn’t even turn around; he just gave me a nasty look.
And now the night was going to hell.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
“She” has a name, but maybe it’s too hard for your pea brain to remember that.
I pursed my lips and looked the other way, hoping that William would be back soon.
“Well, what an honor it is to have June White grace us with her presence,” Jackson mocked me.
“I don’t want her here.” Hunter’s tone of voice made me shiver. It wasn’t a joke.
“What the fuck did she do to you? Come on, leave her alone.” The clean-shaven guy was with him. He tried to push James to get him to keep moving. Hunter stayed still.
I didn’t let out a peep. If I provoked him, that would cause a fight, and he already seemed really on edge as it was.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m gonna get us a round of Cokes. I can’t fucking stand certain people around here,” I heard him mumble, as I saw a water bottle filled with what looked like rum poking out of his pocket.
“Of course, let’s blame everyone else for your future DUIs, you raging alcoholic.” I didn’t just think that. I said it out loud.
James jolted toward my table, but he didn’t scare me. Both his friends held him back before he could come any closer. He was so furious that I thought he’d destroy me with his eyes.
“And you guys defend her too. All she does is run her mouth.”
I covered my mouth. He was an animal, unlike his gentlemanly friends.
“Come on, James. Chill.” Jackson strained to hold him back by the arm.
“I’ll fuck you up. Do you understand? Talk to me like that again and I’ll make you never want to open your mouth again,” he threatened.
I felt my heart hammer against my chest.
“James, cut it out. She was just joking,” his clean-shaven friend insisted. Right then, William came back with our drinks, but I was so shaken that my hands were trembling.
“What’s going on here?”
I blushed partly out of embarrassment and partly out of rage.
“We were just heading out,” Jackson grumbled. The trio turned around and walked away.
I don’t know why, but once again I got the impression that William had some sort of power over James. Maybe the kind that could make him drop off the face of the earth.
“How can you stand him?” I asked bluntly. William put the glasses on the table carefully so they wouldn’t spill.
“He’s my best friend.”
“That’s not a good enough reason. He has anger issues, he has self-control problems, he’s rude, he’s violent.”
William looked down with a sly smirk.
“What’d he say?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“And what’d you say to him, June?”
“Nothing, just that he was an alcoholic with a DUI in his future.”
I noticed his brow furrow. “It’s better not to make any jokes about alcoholism. He’s being a dick, but he has his issues too.”
“Quite a few, I’d say.” Still, I knew it had been uncalled for.
But regardless of James’s past or present family situation, he didn’t have a right to act like that. And what kind of problems could he have had? The usual violent dad and absent mom? I hated James Hunter so much that I couldn’t feel sorry for him, whatever had happened.
“Let’s not ruin the night with tragic stories,” William suggested, in an attempt to change the subject. “Shall we get back to us?”
The sweetness in his voice was electrifying, and so my muscles slowly relaxed.
“Maybe that would be better.” I sighed.
“So how many times did you change schools?”
“Too many.”
“How do you start over every time you move? New house, new friends . . .”
“I’m used to it now. I’ve got my little world in a suitcase that I always bring with me, and somehow, I feel at home.”
William lowered his head a bit and gazed into my eyes. “And what’s in June White’s little world?” Books, notes, loneliness. Were those too pathetic to tell a guy as hot as him?
“I like reading thrillers and spending evenings watching true crime shows,” I replied without thinking.
“I read a lot, too, when I was a kid. Mostly comics, but I stopped. I prefer movies.”
His tone was calm and reflective. Maybe William was too patient. That would explain why he was friends with those thugs. They certainly took advantage of him.
“Do you write too?” he asked inquisitively.
I nodded.
“Really?” He seemed incredulous. “I write sometimes too,” he added, massaging the nape of his neck a bit bashfully.
“I write about my mood. About whatever comes to my head,” I explained quietly before taking another sip of my milkshake.
“Do you want to be a writer?”
“No, it’s just my way of . . . it’s an outlet.”
William continued to nervously massage his neck and nodded like he understood.
“What are you writing?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too curious. Even though I was.
“Whatever comes to my head at the time. In your opinion, what leads someone to write?”
“Good question. It’s kind of like what sports are for other people. It’s therapeutic.”
“I agree. But I think it requires a certain sensitivity,” he commented, fiddling with his straw.
“Yeah, except sometimes I don’t show that kind of sensitivity.” I smiled. William cracked up.