I'll Be

Chapter Eight: My 2AM

Chapter Eight: My 2 A.M.

            We pulled in to the parking lot at Jack’s, the 24-hour diner about three miles from the lodge.

            Julianna killed the engine and asked “Why do I have the feeling they’re going to dump maple syrup on our heads and spray whipped cream down our shirts?”

            Liv’s eyes met mine, and I promised, “Sawyer was really sincere, guys. Just…give them a chance.”

            Caia nodded, “Reeve isn’t so bad, either. I know you’re frustrated with Robbie, Jules, but don’t take it out on the rest of them.”

            “Dustin wasn’t particularly happy to have us.” Bree reminded the group as we slammed the doors to Julianna’s Honda.

            Liv soothed, “Take it easy. We’ll see what happens once we’re inside.”

            As we made our way in slowly, I looked over at Liv.

            “Do you know a Gabby?” I asked, and she put her head low to listen.

            She furrowed her brow, “Gabby? No, I can’t say that I do. Why?”

            “Reeve just…mentioned some girl named Gabby that Sawyer had to go talk to.”

            “And why do you care?” She inflected, a sly smile painting her face.

            I shook my head, “I don’t.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            They were at a long table in the back, three of them huddled together under coats and scarves.

            Dustin looked up, and pulled out his chair. Robbie noticed, jumping to his feet.

            The boy, his purple hair no longer occupying residence, had taken on hair similar to that of Heat Miser.

            “Julianna,” He said, taking a deep breath “I was wrong. You…you’ve got chops, and I respect that. I’m sorry I said what I said.”

            Her eyes were wide, and she glanced at Bree, who smiled. She turned her attention back to Dustin, who extended a hand; she shook, and proceeded back to the table.

            “Thanks.” She said, and we all sat. Despite Liv’s jabs, I felt that I had to ask; my attempt at breeziness was the closest I could get.

            I looked at Reeve, “So, Sawyer’s still talking to Gabby?”

            Reeve placed his napkin on his lap, “You could say that. Gabby’s…kind of a bitch.”

            Sawyer walked toward the table, and sat to Reeve’s right, directly across from me. He picked up his water glass, the corners of his mouth turned up.

            “Hi.” He said softly.

            I smiled, “Hi. How’s Gabby?”

            He choked, and I heard Reeve snicker beside him. Sawyer coughed, setting his glass down as he held up a finger designated for situations such as this.

            “Excuse you,” Reeve gasped in mock shock, “There are ladies present.”

            Sawyer shook his head, “My mistake. It’s rude to flip off a woman.”