Ellie is Cool Now

Chapter 21

The phone nearly drops from my hand like a hot-fucking-potato.

It buzzes with a voicemail from Mark.

Roxy digs a bony elbow into my ribcage. I scowl at her, but she's looking at my lit- up phone screen, reading the notification, a peculiar expression on her face. Like curiosity and annoyance are dueling it out inside her brain.

Whatever. I should just tell her. Save us both the time of her prying it out of me or stealing my phone again to find out for herself.

"Mark and I got hot and heavy," I say quietly. Roxy's eyebrow quirks like big fucking whoop, Ellie. "On his couch. In the townhouse he shares with his fiancée."

She cackles. "Jesus, I hope you laid the pictures of them facedown while you defamed their suburban oasis."

I snort. "Actually, I broke the one with little ceramic hearts along the edge after Liz walked in on us."

Roxy's smile slices her face open. "I don't know if I should clap or buy you a drink."

"Neither." Or both. What? No. I shake my head to clear Roxy juju out of it. "It's a disaster."

She grunts, shrugs, and stands in one fluid motion.

The gym is starting to clear out. Parents and younger siblings, grandparents and proud girlfriends pass us as they congratulate David and the team. David turns to face us, joy beaming from his eyes and momentarily catching both of us in the rays.

"Steven and I — and a few others — are heading to Shakey's for celebratory burgers. Join us," he says, looking from Roxy to me and back. He grins.

Roxy's lips purse. "If you're driving. Ellie is grounded—"

"I don't have a car here."

"And I don't have a license," she finishes. The subtext is thick with that statement.

He makes a whoop sound and tells us to meet him around front in a few minutes. When we push through the school doors, the parking lot is already starting to clear out, but a few cars, probably parents waiting for their players, idle in the dark. The temperature has dropped, and my breath smokes out from my lips like a cloud.

Roxy lights up a cigarette, turning her breath to literal smoke.

"I'm pretty sure school grounds are a smoke-free zone," I say.

"You gonna listen to that message or what?" Roxy asks, blowing smoke in my direction. I dodge it, and stare at my lock screen. The image is an inspirational Oprah quote about courage. Right now I feel like it is one-hundred-percent judging me.

I don't know why this matters to me so much. Three days ago, I was in LA worrying about the future of my career, the zit on my cheek, and whether the dialog on page seven sounded forced. I was NOT thinking about the state of my love life or daydreaming about my former high school crush who now works at a bakery and just so happens to kiss like the tormented lead in a trashy romance novel.

Whatever Mark has to say, I can and will deal with it.

I swipe the notification and punch the play button on the message.

Roxy leans over to listen. She shockingly has the decency to stamp out her cigarette first.

"Ellie." He says my name carefully, like he wants to protect it. "I drove to your parents' house and I've been sitting outside. I can see through the downstairs window that your dad is watching a Golden Girls rerun."