Chapter 31: Asshole Upgrade-1

That giant sneak. A few days after Logan resumed contact, I was back at my greasy second home. Not knowing what his angle was, that insistent, devilishly handsome, arrogant football player asshole raised every red flag I owned. I didn't need my 1480 PSAT score to know he used his teammates' phones. What bothered me was how Logan wedged himself between my thoughts. Not in a positive way, and most often I wondered how he was so fucking delusional thinking I'd be impressed with his asshattery lines, but I didn't like that it was so hard not to think about him. I wiped the counter with enough pressure to remove the stainless steel polish. "Guess that was the whole idea." I almost passed out from laughing too hard when Logan brought up our date. What was he thinking? Had he suffered too many tackles in camp? The more important question was: why wouldn't he stop? He couldn't have been attracted to me. I puked on his feet, for fuck's sake. The only reason I hadn't blocked his second number was wondering what his real angle was. Torn between disgusted and wondering if I should be impressed with his tenacity pulsed throbs of a headache. My brain tapped the inside of my skull. He dropped a few casual, 'hi' messages. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. The door chime pinged me out of my thoughts. A huge smile split my face. Positive energy flowed through my tired limbs from the tall, thin boy whose pensive brown eyes brightened behind his circular glasses. One of his hands swept through the messy brown curls falling across his forehead. "Alex!" My voice chirped higher pitched than I intended, causing me to palm the stainless-steel counter. The hand not in his hair clenched a black backpack strap over his shoulder. An adorable shade of pink cast over his freckled cheeks. "Hey, Elle. You look…" "Ridiculous," I filled in with a smile. "How are you?" "Ahh, good," he replied in a tentative voice and glanced around the restaurant's lobby. "Is Jake here?" "Nope." My brother didn't know, but he was grounded once he arrived home. Stuck with the company of our parents and Wheel of Fortune. His coach calling was a fun phone conversation I eavesdropped on. I couldn't wait for him to come home to that development. "Your usual?" Alex nodded and pulled out his wallet. I rang up a small pepperoni pizza and a side salad. He dropped a tip into our jar, which made me smile. How considerate! Again, this was the kind of boy I needed in my life. Genuine, smart, sweet, with no arrogance, and didn't play games. With quick hands, I assembled his salad, tossing on extra bacon bits since at one point he told me, 'There's no such thing as too little bacon.' He cleared his throat behind me. "Charlotte, Anne, or Emily?" "How is that a question?" I teased over my shoulder. Alex and I debated which Bronte sister had written the better novel until his pizza box slid under the warmer. An adorable smile spread across his face. "See you at school Monday, Elle?" "Yeah." I waved as he pushed open the doors. A slow, deep sigh escaped my lips. Not that I dated, but if I did, that was a much better-suited guy for me. I was grateful for his friendship. Hundreds of kids pushed past me at school as if I didn't exist. Only my senior class could've remembered Ryder's rumors. And I was very thankful that they'd all forgotten about me and moved on courtesy of my silence and Jake's presence. The anonymity offered a lonely sense of privacy. While I never asked Jake to intervene, he would've punched out the teeth of anyone who brought up my past. Clearly, but I was done thinking about a particular irritant of Jake's. The door chime interrupted my thoughts. I said without enthusiasm, "Welcome to Pizza Palace… Your pizza is our palace pleasure." Ugh. "Hi there," a low-toned voice drawled. Three tall, large-framed guys in black T-shirts and jeans approached. By their rounder, boyish facial features and leaner muscles, they were freshmen or sophomores. Broad-shouldered physiques, confident postures, and high-lifted chins all screamed jocks. This trio wore an air of familiarity. Why? One with ink-black hair, tanned skin close to crispy bacon, and brown eyes approached first. He lowered his phone and looked at me as if I was on the menu. With my finger over the register, I assumed they had a gigantic order. Yet, again, no fat on them. "What can I get you?" "I'll take…." Either super confident or the type who didn't take no, his eyes dropped to my chest. "Your number." I cleared my throat and shoved a silver tray between us. His eyes lifted to my name tag next to a circular piece of pepperoni on my left shoulder. "Eleanor." The suggestive way he spoke –like he expected me to melt into submission and beg him to call me– and the dark look in his eyes were creepy. I shifted my weight between each foot. "How about pizza?" I pointed to the menu board behind my head. It's not like we had much to pick from - pizza, salads, and drinks. "Since this is Pizza Palace." "Aww, come on." He leaned his elbows on the counter and gazed at me with soft puppy eyes. "Give me your number. Please." College, college, college. With that reminder, I bit my tongue. Despite my job's self-deprecating 'take this' socialization, this creep toed the appropriate-inappropriate line. He was lucky Jake was three hours away. "Sure," I said in a dry, bored tone. "Eight-three-one, four-three-eight, five-six-seven-eight." He pulled out his phone and mumbled the numbers. "Is that seriously your number?" I rolled my lips in and tapped the counter until he realized that I gave 831-GET-LOST. The area code was right. Mr. Smooth needed to type the entire number and call it before his brain registered that it was fake. He leaned over the counter and returned my smirk with his. "What's your real number, Eleanor?" "Lay off, Jackson." One of the guys behind him spoke up. "She's not interested." "Thank you," I said when he interrupted me. "She'd rather go out with a real man." Bachelor number two, with polished blonde hair swept off his forehead with enough product to survive a hurricane, shoved Jackson and took his place. "I'm Sebastian."