𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉

[Chapter 13] Who's Your Friend?

"Hi, I have a pick up order for Kelly," I tell the lady behind the counter.

"Kelly..." She echoes with a faint Spanish lilt as she scans the POS screen in front of her. "Um...it's almost ready it'll be just a few minutes."

"Oh that's fine, I'll wait." I wave her off and she smiles before basically running back into the kitchen.

I turn from the counter and gaze around the vibrant interior of 'Los Tres Sombreros'---Westwood's most popular Mexican restaurant.

I see a few familiar faces, couples that look like they're on cute little dates.

Maybe I would like to be on a date on a Friday night rather than getting take-out, because my best friend is out having the time of her life.

I continue aimlessly looking around the restaurant until my gaze rests on none other than--you guessed it--Lake.

"No way." I wheeze under my breath as I immediately turn away.

What is HE doing here?

Of all the places to be on a Friday night, he's in the mood for Mexican??

Shouldn't he be getting 'lit' at some random house party or something?

I sneak a glance over my shoulder and smirk some as I watch him go ham on some chips and salsa.

Whoa.

Angry menace to society is just casually and contently enjoying a basket of chips and a bowl of slsa.

Alone????

I can't see the other side of the booth but he doesn't seem to be engaged in any conversation of sorts.

Talk about oblivious to his surroundings though, he hasn't even looked up from his phone once to see me staring at him.
Speaking of phones...
I hung up as soon as I called him. The phone rang maybe twice before I ended the call and chucked my phone at Dakota's bed.
Why? The better question is why I even tried calling him in the first place. Clear lack of good judgment.
"Kelly?!"

My eyes widen as someone calls my name and Lake's head shoots up.

I whirl around to face the take-out counter again, hoping I turned fast enough.

"Hi, yes---I'm Kelly," I greet the short brunette behind the counter who looks like she hates her job.

"So, someone accidentaly dropped your fajitas on the ground--I am so sorry," she dead pans. "We can either refund you for the inconvenience or it'll just be a little longer wait time."

"Oh that's totally fine!" I wave her off. "I have literally nothing else to do--this is the highlight of my night."

"Mhm, yeah okay. So you want them remade?" The girl asks and I nod. "Yes please if you don't mi--"

"Sure. Sir, are you here for pickup as well??" her attention turns to someone behind me, I guess and I hear a casual response. "No, sorry, I'm just grabbing some more napkins."

An arm brushes past me and reaches around me to grab some paper napkins off the counter. "Excuse me," is whispered in my ear at a low, seductive volume and even though I don't immediately recognize the voice—all it takes is one look down at the scarred, veiny hand in front of me and I know exactly who it is. "I--"

"Uh, okay. I'm gonna tell them to restart your fajitas." The girl blinks before turning around— her sleek, braided ponytail swinging as she heads back to the loud kitchen.

"Funny seeing you here," Lake comments, leaning against the counter next to me. "You stalking me, Blake?"

"I could ask you the same thing--first school, now here?" I attempt to make light of what is actually turning into a very unsettling situation.