Page 11 of Pretend You Love Me

“So what’s the story, Ginger?” I ask.

“There’s no story.” She’s looking down at her hands.

“Bullshit.”

“What’s your story?” she says, sweetly.

I just growl and don’t reply.

“I should call someone about my car. I guess I need to get it towed.” She’s looking at the ceiling again, blinking back tears.

“Already did it,” I say.

Her face jerks down. “When?”

“I texted a guy when you were getting the x-rays. It’s all taken care of.”

“How much is it going to be?”

“To fix the car or just to tow it?”

She groans. Worry spreads over her face.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How would I not worry about it?” she says, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t have a car. I don’t have a way to fix the car. I’m not even sure I have enough money to get it towed.”

She’s doing the rapid blinking thing again, and I’m praying she doesn’t cry.

“Calm down, Ginger. It will all work out.”

“Did you just tell me tocalm down?” she hisses.

“Yes, because that’s what you need to do.

She scoffs.“You can’t tell a woman tocalm down.”

“You can if that’s what she needs to do.”

“Of all people to rescue me,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, I was just talking to my fairy godmother; thanking her for the rescue.”

“Well, this isn’t what I was wanting to do today either,’ I whisper-yell back. She’s shooting daggers out of her eyes right now.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I thought you were enjoying my company.”

Sadie approaches with our plates, and we both clamp our mouth shut tight. She just sets the plates down in front of us and backs away silently like she might trigger an explosion if she makes any noise.

Ginger angrily dips a French fry into her ketchup like she’s trying to murder it.

“What’s your real name?” I ask. Why I’m talking I have no idea, but it’s fucking bothering me that’s she’s hiding something.

“Ginger,” she says.

“Bullshit.”