Chapter 7: Dinner with the Enemy

Sure enough, as soon as Natalie asked, Derek, just like the comments, agreed to anything. He even sounded chipper on the phone, like nothing had ever happened.

But when we got to the private room at the local steakhouse—the one with faded football memorabilia on the walls and the smell of charcoal and grilled onions hanging in the air—his face was still pale, dark circles under his eyes. Clearly just recovered from a serious illness, or at least working hard to look the part.

The private room was all faded football jerseys and the lingering smell of grilled onions. Someone’s little brother kept peeking in, hoping for leftover fries. The room was full of their circle of friends—old neighborhood faces, the kind you see at every birthday and graduation. Derek glanced at Natalie first, then turned away, pulling out a chair one seat away from her, making a show of it.

"This time I’ll sit farther away. Your boyfriend shouldn’t have to make you kick me out again, right…"

With that one sentence, the atmosphere in the private room instantly turned awkward. People shifted in their seats, glancing between the three of us, unsure where to look.

But he still looked at me as if nothing had happened, flashing that same sly grin. "Is this distance okay, Alex?"

I forced a tight smile, fingers drumming nervously on the table, glancing at Natalie for backup.

Everyone waited for my answer, like the next episode was about to drop. But all I could think was: *how do you win when you’re not even the main character?*