The Girl he Wants

26- Baby, Grind on me.

***JAY'S P.O.V***

   The boy glances down at his butt—where Elizabeth just hit him—and then he meets her gaze, his eyebrows narrowing. When a flattering smile appears on Elizabeth's lips, though, he just grins back and awkwardly walks away. He is probably wondering which one of the boys is Elizabeth's boyfriend and if he is going to say anything. Still, he waltzes away, glancing back, his eyes glinting with something close to confusion, which brings a smile to Jay's lips.

   "You guys suck." Elizabeth breathes, shaking her head at Asher.

   Asher opens his smirking lips to reply, but Elizabeth doesn't give him a chance. She speaks aloud. "My turn. Truth or dare, Jay?"

   Jay's ears perk at the mention of his name. Combing a hand through his dark hair and crossing his arms over his chest, he says, "Dare."

   Elizabeth's blue eyes twinkle. "I dare you to climb up on any table of your choice and perform a dance number..." As Jay's insides turn to mush, she adds, "And sing along..."

   Jay's limbs go numb and the world around him seems to shrink. "You're going to get me in so much trouble right now."

   "You can forfeit if you don't want to do it." Elizabeth explains to him, allowing him to recall how they made a deal that whoever forfeits has to take a bite of the hottest pepper this restaurant offers.

   "No. I'll do it." Jay replies, rising from the booth. Swallowing his pride and attempting to wrap a veil of normality over his face, he climbs atop the table directly beside the booth all his friends sit in. Taking the deepest breath he has taken in a long time, he picks the first song that comes to his mind and begins singing it. His hips move as the words roll of his lips. "Baby, grind on me."

    His dance moves--in his mind--are perfect as he rolls his body on the wobbly table like he's seen boys do to the song on social media. The group has red faces and laughter so loud they could rattle the glasses sitting atop all the customers' tables in the building. He continues singing the song, noticing from the corner of his eye a figure approaching him. "Relax your mind take your time on me..."

   A firm hand clasps around Jay's arm and he's yanked from the table, his other arm flailing wildly. His heart plummets into his stomach, and as he turns his head and peers into the serious gray eyes of Mr. Gaz, he knows it's the end of him.

   "Jay Holland, I am calling your mother!" He drags Jay right from the restaurant and out the back door. The two of them burst into a bright alleyway, the restaurant's dumpster resting along the same wall the door stands against. The stench of the trash manufactures tears in Jay's eyes, and Mr. Gaz remarks, "Son, you're about to cry when you hear what I'm going to tell your mother. Give me your phone."

   Jay, shaking his head, hands his phone over to Mr. Gaz. He snatches it up, his fingers jamming against the touch screen relentlessly. Jay's shoulders sag and his eyes fall to the filthy alleyway ground as he mumbles under his warm breath. "She won't answer."

   Mr. Gaz rolls his eyes. "Yeah. You better hope so, son."

   Jay shrugs and leans his head against the brick wall opposite of the restaurant's door. Closing his eyes, he slowly controls his heartbeat from the speeding pace it was at to a steady thud, thud, thud. Mr. Gaz continues to call his mother, pressing the button for speaker phone, but the last ring flies by and soon the phone is suggesting for them to leave her a voicemail.

   "Told yah." Jay mutters, knowing it's worse to him that his own mother won't answer his call—even if he is states away—than being caught dancing on the table of a restaurant by his history teacher. "She doesn't answer my calls. Ever."