Never Getting Back Together

EIGHT

"I'm not complaining, but I'm surprised you agreed to join us for Fine Dining Friday." Liv links her elbow with mine. The worn leather of her black jacket is as soft as velvet against my arm.

"You and me both, sister," I mutter.

There's exactly one restaurant in Rosedale, Rossi's Italian Cuisine. And it's owned by, you guessed it, Ty's family. Usually, I'm all about going to Rossi's. Just because I'm not Ty's number-one fan anymore doesn't mean I don't still love his family. I'm convinced his dad, Marco, is an actual angel. He goes out of his way to make food I can eat. And he ensures there isn't any cross-contamination that would cause issues for me.

I fully intended to avoid the place until Ty went back to UCLA. But that was before he decided to dye my next-door neighbor green.

"I have words for my festival co-host," I say. "I mean, seriously, are we twelve? What adult person thinks it's funny to turn another human being green? Even if it is Gary."

Liv barks out a laugh, which she tries to hide with a cough. I scowl at her.

"It's a tiny bit funny," she says. Our shoes crunch against the loose pebbles on the sidewalk as we follow Betty through the town square. The trees lining Main Street glow in the white, twinkle lights that adorn them year-round.

"You think you have words for him?" Betty shoots a glance over her shoulder at me. "I'm the one with a green swimming pool, and you better believe it won't be me pumping out all the water and replacing it." She holds the door of the restaurant open. The intoxicating smell of roasted tomatoes and melted cheese wafts through the air.

We walk into the warm light of the foyer. Rossi's is all dark wooden booths and cozy golden lanterns. With the stone flooring and Venetian plaster walls, it has the vibe of an Italian piazza. Or what I would imagine one would be like anyway.

Liv's phone buzzes, and she fishes it from her jacket pocket. She's waiting to find out if she was elected president of her sorority, the Kappa Zetas.

"Any news?" I ask, even though I'm guessing from the slump of her shoulders there isn't.

"No. I'm starting to think they're hazing me again because this is torture."

I give her a side hug as we step up to the hostess stand where Ty's sister Francie is organizing a stack of menus. When she sees us, her flawlessly-painted red lips break into a big smile.

"Quinn! You're here. I didn't think we'd see your cute face while Ty was in town." Francie knows Ty and I didn't end things on a high note, but she still treats me like part of the family. "So, how are the Kelley gals tonight?"

My mom and Betty were adamant about passing the Kelley surname down to their daughters. They believed women have as much right to carry on their family name as men do. Betty's never been married, but Mom insisted on keeping her name when she tied the knot.

"We're good. Annoyed, but good." I scan the dining room, searching for Ty. I see his other sisters, Lisa and Gianna, taking orders, but no sign of that over-inflated head of his. Ty's sisters are just as gorgeous as he is, with their shiny, dark hair and olive complexions.

"I've got a bone to pick with that brother of yours," I tell Francie.

"Speaking of bones to pick." Betty brushes past us, striding over to Kelvin and Chance. They're hunched over a red-and-white-checked table, laughing as they sneak glances at Gary. He's sitting next to the window, examining one of the laminated menus through his thick-framed glasses and looking distinctly green.

"Tell me he didn't." Francie purses her ruby lips, glancing from Gary back to Chance and Kelvin and connecting the dots that lead straight to her older brother.