Read Online Pretend You Love Me by Julie Anne Peters - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Anne Peters
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been identified and personified by your name.”
That was true. She was the embodiment of poetry.
Jamie slapped the countertop. “What can I get you, girls? The special today is the chili cheese dog, but I don’t recommend
it. The buns are hard as day-old dicks and the hamburger was looking a little E. coli, if you know what I mean. The curly
fries are hot and fresh cuz I just made a new batch. Well, half a batch now.” He tilted his head. “We’re running low on custard
too, don’t ask me why.” He stuck an index finger into his right dimple and twisted it.
Xanadu laughed again. “You,” she said, pointing to him. “Both of you are going to save my life.”
Ditto, I thought.
Jamie quipped, “We’re out of Life Savers. We have gobs of sprinkles for sundaes, though.” His tongue, I saw, was a hideous
shade of green and pink and orange. “Oh hey, Mike. Kung Pao called over a few minutes ago.”
“Shit.” I glanced at my watch. Twenty after three. “Listen, I’ve got to go drop the truck off for Darryl. Take care of Xanadu,
will you? I’ll be right back.”
Jamie eyed the length of her. “I’m not sure what to do, seeing as how I’m not that kind of boy.”
I shot him a silent warning: Shut it off.
She made some remark I didn’t hear as I tore to the truck. Jamie had her laughing, anyway.
I parked at the curb and honked, left the keys in the ignition, then sprinted the eight blocks back to the Dairy D. Xanadu
had ordered onion rings and a Mr. Mistee, and was sitting across from Jamie at the outdoor picnic table. He’d fixed us our
usual—a raspberry Mistee and an order of curly fries to share.
“What do you do around here for fun?” Xanadu asked him as I eased in beside her.
“You mean instead of this?” He lassoed a curly fry in the air.
She sipped on her Mistee. Sitting so close to her, the charged air between us made the hair on my arms stand up.
Jamie tapped his chin. “Let’s see. Mike is into Internet porn.”
I lunged across the table and slugged him in the chest.
“Hey, owie.” He rubbed his pec. “Don’t damage the merch.”
“You were damaged from birth,” I muttered.
“You’re the one with hormone deficiency.”
Xanadu laughed. “You are both so gay—” She stopped. She swiveled to face me. “I didn’t say that.”
Jamie said, “Use it or lose it.” He flapped a limp wrist at her.
I hated when he got this way. All show-offy, exhibitionist. He validated the stereotype. He played to it. Exhaling an irritated
breath, I scooted out the end of the bench and said, “Anyone else want ketchup?”
Jamie raised his hand. “I do. I do.”
I bent his hand back until cartilage crunched.
On my way to the gallon jug out front, I heard Xanadu say to Jamie, “Um, is it okay to talk about it?”
“About what?” Jamie said. “Us being gay? It’s not like it’s a secret. Look at me. Am I flaming, or what?”
Xanadu said, “I didn’t notice.”
They both cracked up.
As I scooted back in with a pee cup of ketchup, Xanadu smiled at me. I melted. She said, “So, the two of you…”
“Coalton’s token ten percent of the population,” Jamie answered. He swirled a curly fry in the ketchup, adding, “One fag and
one dyke. You couldn’t order it up any more predictable than that.”
I glared at him. “Cram it.”
“Oh, excuse me. Mike doesn’t like to admit she’s,” he cupped a hand to his mouth and mock-whispered to Xanadu, “queer.”
“I don’t like labels,” I snapped. “Especially that one.”
Xanadu turned toward me and held my eyes. “I know what you mean. God, how I know what you mean.” She gave me a long, knowing
look. “I respect that, Mike. I really do.”
Heat fried my face. She got it. She understood me perfectly. Vice versa. We had a connection.
Jamie took a sip of Mistee and said, “Did you get to River View?”
My eye daggers sliced through his heart.
“Sorry.” He blanched. “I’m sorry.”
I
That was true. She was the embodiment of poetry.
Jamie slapped the countertop. “What can I get you, girls? The special today is the chili cheese dog, but I don’t recommend
it. The buns are hard as day-old dicks and the hamburger was looking a little E. coli, if you know what I mean. The curly
fries are hot and fresh cuz I just made a new batch. Well, half a batch now.” He tilted his head. “We’re running low on custard
too, don’t ask me why.” He stuck an index finger into his right dimple and twisted it.
Xanadu laughed again. “You,” she said, pointing to him. “Both of you are going to save my life.”
Ditto, I thought.
Jamie quipped, “We’re out of Life Savers. We have gobs of sprinkles for sundaes, though.” His tongue, I saw, was a hideous
shade of green and pink and orange. “Oh hey, Mike. Kung Pao called over a few minutes ago.”
“Shit.” I glanced at my watch. Twenty after three. “Listen, I’ve got to go drop the truck off for Darryl. Take care of Xanadu,
will you? I’ll be right back.”
Jamie eyed the length of her. “I’m not sure what to do, seeing as how I’m not that kind of boy.”
I shot him a silent warning: Shut it off.
She made some remark I didn’t hear as I tore to the truck. Jamie had her laughing, anyway.
I parked at the curb and honked, left the keys in the ignition, then sprinted the eight blocks back to the Dairy D. Xanadu
had ordered onion rings and a Mr. Mistee, and was sitting across from Jamie at the outdoor picnic table. He’d fixed us our
usual—a raspberry Mistee and an order of curly fries to share.
“What do you do around here for fun?” Xanadu asked him as I eased in beside her.
“You mean instead of this?” He lassoed a curly fry in the air.
She sipped on her Mistee. Sitting so close to her, the charged air between us made the hair on my arms stand up.
Jamie tapped his chin. “Let’s see. Mike is into Internet porn.”
I lunged across the table and slugged him in the chest.
“Hey, owie.” He rubbed his pec. “Don’t damage the merch.”
“You were damaged from birth,” I muttered.
“You’re the one with hormone deficiency.”
Xanadu laughed. “You are both so gay—” She stopped. She swiveled to face me. “I didn’t say that.”
Jamie said, “Use it or lose it.” He flapped a limp wrist at her.
I hated when he got this way. All show-offy, exhibitionist. He validated the stereotype. He played to it. Exhaling an irritated
breath, I scooted out the end of the bench and said, “Anyone else want ketchup?”
Jamie raised his hand. “I do. I do.”
I bent his hand back until cartilage crunched.
On my way to the gallon jug out front, I heard Xanadu say to Jamie, “Um, is it okay to talk about it?”
“About what?” Jamie said. “Us being gay? It’s not like it’s a secret. Look at me. Am I flaming, or what?”
Xanadu said, “I didn’t notice.”
They both cracked up.
As I scooted back in with a pee cup of ketchup, Xanadu smiled at me. I melted. She said, “So, the two of you…”
“Coalton’s token ten percent of the population,” Jamie answered. He swirled a curly fry in the ketchup, adding, “One fag and
one dyke. You couldn’t order it up any more predictable than that.”
I glared at him. “Cram it.”
“Oh, excuse me. Mike doesn’t like to admit she’s,” he cupped a hand to his mouth and mock-whispered to Xanadu, “queer.”
“I don’t like labels,” I snapped. “Especially that one.”
Xanadu turned toward me and held my eyes. “I know what you mean. God, how I know what you mean.” She gave me a long, knowing
look. “I respect that, Mike. I really do.”
Heat fried my face. She got it. She understood me perfectly. Vice versa. We had a connection.
Jamie took a sip of Mistee and said, “Did you get to River View?”
My eye daggers sliced through his heart.
“Sorry.” He blanched. “I’m sorry.”
I
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