Game On by Michelle Smith Read Free Book Online

low buzz of the fluorescents, with a handful of people scattered around—including Matt, Randy, and Bri, who are sitting in a booth. Bri’s got her chin in her hands and is staring out the window, looking like she’s lost in her own world. Which I’d imagine she has to do to suffer through a dinner with the guys sitting with her.
    Laura Decker’s working the register, in all her low-cut T-shirt, wavy blond hair glory. She smiles and leans onto the counter as I approach. “Hey, gorgeous,” I say, grinning.
    She laughs and rolls her eyes—she knows I’m full of crap. She’s my favorite girl around here; she plays the game just as well as I do, if not better. “Hey, yourself. Same order as always?” When I nod, she turns and calls my order out to the kitchen.
    I glance over my shoulder, sneaking a peek at Bri. She’s not in her own world anymore—Matt’s whispering something in her ear, which has her lips in a downright miserable frown. She nudges him, but he won’t budge. She nudges again, and finally pushes the asshole.
    â€œMove!” she shouts.
    Matt rolls his eyes, but finally stands and lets her scoot out of the booth. She storms to the door, letting it clamor closed behind her.
    The idiot probably called her “baby” again.
    â€œEric,” Laura says.
    I whirl around. “Yeah. What’s up?” My bag of food has magically appeared on the counter, and Laura’s looking at me like I’m a nutcase. There’s a 99 percent chance I’ve missed something here. I hand her my dad’s debit card, which she takes slowly.
    â€œI was asking about that crappy article,” she says. “And whether or not you need some cheering up. Did you hear a word I said?”
    Sadly, no. No, I did not. I’m too busy spying on the neighbor girl. But cheering up sounds like a good idea.
    My mouth hangs open as I turn just enough to see out the front door. Bri and Matt are in the middle of the near-empty parking lot, with Bri gesturing all over the place, yelling about who-knows-what.
    I shouldn’t be a nosy-ass. I should mind my own business. I
should
let Laura cheer me up in the break room, like she’s done plenty of times before. But my gut’s twisting and turning, because I’ve never seen Bri lose her shit in public before. Something’s got to be wrong out there.
    Scratching my head, I grab Dad’s card and scoop up the bag. “I’ll text you, okay? Rain check.”
    I hurry to the door before she answers, peering outside before heading out there. Randy’s standing beneath the restaurant’s awning with his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching Bri and Matt go toe-to-toe in the lot like it’s just another night. Bri’s face is twisted in this weird sort of rage I didn’t know she was capable of, and I used to sneak rubber snakes into her house when we were kids; I would know her wrath.
    I lift my chin toward the golden couple. “What’s going on over there?” I ask Randy.
    He shrugs, chomping on his Godawful tobacco. “No clue, man. She’s been acting like a bitch since we got here, so—”
    I wince. The idiocy is actually painful. “Just stop there.”
    â€œSeriously?” Bri’s voice carries across the lot. “Whatever. I’ll walk home.”
    â€œAre you really that stupid?” Matt says. “You live, like, three miles away.”
    My face heats with a surge of rage. You can’t talk to a girl like that, dude.
    But Bri doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t look surprised in the least—she just looks exhausted. Which means this probably isn’t the first time. And that only pisses me off more.
    She holds out her arms and lets them fall to her side. “Perfect. I run, like, five miles during every soccer game. I’m good to go.”
    Yeah, no. Harris may be okay with letting a girl walk