Jenn neglected to put in her two cents. I was watching her expectantly but her face never changed. She just pushed the leaves around on her plate, off in her own little world. What a strange thing for all of us to be going through at the same time. All this competition, all these threats. And I wasn’t just thinking about the shows either. For the first time ever, it occurred to me that Jenn might actually be a bit threatened by little ol’ Perry.
The rest of the meal went along well. There were a few instances where Dex and I acted like we normally did, he teasing me, me retorting back, but it wasn’t until it was on display in front of the hosts of Gamer Room and Wine Babes, that I realized how inappropriate it was. It was harmless; I knew it was and was trying my hardest to make sure it came across that way, but it still made me worry a bit. Every time I even had the slightest inkling that he was flirting with me, I had to look at Jenn and see what she thought. On her end, though, she didn’t seem to think anything. She was very quiet, her mind elsewhere, gazing at people in the restaurant, and when she wasn’t, she was in a texting frenzy with someone. It was enough that Seb noticed.
“Your fingers are going to fall off, Jenn,” he said.
She looked up from her phone and smiled, perfect and easy as always.
“I’ve got magic fingers. Just ask Dex.”
The way she said it, in her throaty, low Scarlett Johansson purr, made me sick. I felt like slinking down into my chair and slithering down to the floor in a sad little puddle.
“She’s not kidding.” That was his sly response.
I was this close to flipping the table over. Ugh. I hated him. I hated her. And I hated Uncle Al for thinking that my heart needed to be broken. Well fuck t-
I felt a slight kick against my shin and looked up. Rebecca was looking at me, her eye in a half wink, seeming like she had something to say. She smiled at me, just a quick shudder on her lined lips, and then turned to Jenn.
“Is that Bradley again?” she asked.
Jenn looked officially annoyed for the first time today. It only lasted a second, but it was enough. That hard glaze reformed and I felt a spiteful energy shooting out from her pupils. But before anyone could pick up on it, her eyes were the pretty, soft hazel again and she was looking like a million, genetically blessed, bucks.
“Yes, you know Bradley. Always harassing me over the shooting schedule,” she told Rebecca, and then looked us all in the eye, including me.
“Bradley’s your cameraman?” I asked.
“He’s the guy who replaced me. The chump, I should say,” Dex said.
“It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it,” Rebecca said. “Now Bradley is the poor soul who has to fly to exotic locales with us broads.”
“And now Dex has to run around with me, with kelpmonsters, skinwalkers and leper zombies,” I said. “I think you traded in the wrong job.”
“Did I?” he questioned, peering into my eyes, already knowing the answer. His voice was warm and serious. I think he believed he had made the right choice; at least I hoped he did.
“Perry, you’re single right?” Rebecca asked, her clipped accent sounding innocent, but the question still made me squirm momentarily.
“Sure am,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Dex. I hated that question. It was usually followed by some pitiful look or false empathy, as if being single was a big, huge problem that shouldn’t have to befall someone like me. Or, it was followed with an offer of a set-up.
“Because I think you and Bradley would make a great pair.”
Bingo.
Dex choked on his drink and started sputtering for air. At the same time, Jenn cried out, “Are you kidding me? No way!”
I was surprised at both their reactions and I think they were too, because once Dex regained control of his throat, a tense, unspoken look went out between the couple.
“What?” Rebecca asked, now playing up an innocent look to match the tone. She turned to me, and said, “He’s very good-looking, Perry.”
“He’s way too old for her,” Jenn protested.
“How old is he?” I had to ask.
“Same age as me,” Dex said quickly. “And he’s a douche.” He picked up his straw and angrily chewed on the end. It was a change from his compulsive Nicorette chewing.
“And you know if Dex is calling someone a douche, he must be a real douche,” Dean said, grinning at us all.
“He is not a douche,” Jenn said with a disgusted grunt.
Rebecca laughed. “Well not to you, dear Jenny, of course not.”
I couldn’t tell if there was a thread of vindictiveness or something in her voice, since her accent made picking up on subtleties more difficult. But there was an odd, brief hush to the table, as if everyone noticed anyway. There was something weird going on, and because I was the outsider in the group, I didn’t know what it was.
“Why do you think we’d make a good pair? Or were you being sarcastic?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“When isn’t she sarcastic?” Seb said.
She yanked on his ponytail one more time. “Be that as it may, I do think Perry should meet Bradley.”
“She’ll meet him on Friday, at the party,” Dex said. “That will be enough.” And the way Dex ended that sentence signaled that no one would be talking about Bradley anymore.