One of the Guys Read Online Free PDF Page B

happy as can be. Ollie puts Cowboy in a headlock. Cowboy wiggles to get free with no success, so he stomps on Ollie’s foot. Ollie howls, laughing as he grabs his neon orange sneaker. Cowboy punches Ollie in the shoulder.
    I chuckle. Those guys. Okay. So now they should march right in here to apologize for flaking out lately. All will be back to normal again. But they don’t even look my way. As they walk toward the pizza place a few doors down, I tap on the glass, confused and a little panicky. I feel pathetic, but I don’t care. I need them to notice me. Finally, they spin around and spot me.
    Ollie walks right up to the window, lifts his shirt, and presses his stomach against the glass, shouting, “McRib!”
    And then he starts sliding down, his belly fat screeching against the glass. Mom almost chokes on her latte. I don’t laugh. I refuse to laugh. I’m mad at them for forgetting me.
    Ollie beats the glass with his fists.
    â€œHey! Stop that!” The strung-out man behind the counter shouts. “I’ll call the cops, you punks!”
    Ollie skips to the door, and Cowboy trails behind. I sip my latte, masking my hurt. What are they doing here? Without me?
    â€œMcRib! What’s up?” Ollie announces as the door swings shut behind him.
    â€œLuke,” Mom says to Ollie and then nods at Cowboy. “Justin.”
    Ollie nods back. “Mrs. McRib.”
    Mom leans back. “Please don’t call me that. Aren’t you all a little old for nicknames?”
    â€œYou don’t mess with tradition,” Cowboy says.
    â€œWhy does my sweet, lovely daughter have to be named after a sandwich?” Mom asks. “Why can’t you call her Princess? Or Daisy? I don’t know. Something cute.”
    â€œMom,” I protest. “Do. Not. Give. Them. Any. Ideas.”
    Ollie places his palms flat on the table and says in a low voice, “Your daughter ate ten McRibs in one sitting, Mrs. McRib. She is a bad-ass.”
    â€œNot my finest moment, Ollie.” I press my lips together, annoyed. My stomach aches just thinking about those sandwiches.
    â€œOh, good. You’re acknowledging my presence again.” Ollie sweeps a hand through his dark curls, his signature just-rolled-out-of-the-sack look. In reality, he spends an hour in front of the mirror every morning to achieve such an artful hairstyle. His hair looks longer than normal, wisps of curls flirting with his narrow forehead, a sign we haven’t been seeing each other as often.
    Cowboy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and pretends to be studying the menu. He chomps on a toothpick, squints, and then fidgets with the cuffs of his flannel button-down.
    Why does seeing them feel so weird?
    After the mooning incident, everything changed so quickly. One minute, I was a Burlington High senior. The next, I was accepted into Winston and swept into a different world. I hung out with Loch on his nights off, texted with everyone, but this run-in with Ollie and Cowboy feels so awkward, like I’m seeing them after a year apart or something. Maybe because Loch is missing from the equation.
    Or maybe for a different reason altogether. Maybe we’re growing apart.
    Cowboy’s cheeks appear fuller, more flushed, his blue eyes fresh and bright. I wonder if I look different to them, too. Or maybe this is all just my imagination.
    Yet I feel that little empty space in the middle of my chest. A space growing wider every second, every day.
    I must look uncomfortable because Mom gives me a strange look, clears her throat, and stands. “You know,” she says. “I have to make a few calls. Be right back.”
    She goes outside and pretends to dial a number on her cell phone, stealing glances at me. Yes, she would like for me to collect at least one friend of the female variety, but she knows how much the guys mean to me. Despite her distaste for the old nicknames, Mom approves of the boys.