Love, Lies and Texas Dips by Susan McBride

at each other dumbly until Alex revved intogear. He shoved the empty pitcher onto the countertop and scurried around the corner of the kitchen and through the great room. There was a vague whine as the carved front door was pulled wide, and Alex’s greeting of “Hey, that was fast” followed by a higher-pitched voice, one Mac thought sounded familiar. She knew why soon enough, when Alex reappeared around the corner with a tall girl with shiny black hair and exotic almond-shaped eyes.
    “Oh, hey, Mac,” the girl said when she saw Mac standing there.
    “So you two know each other?” Alex appeared surprised and way too pleased, which somehow irritated Mac all the more.
    “Yeah, we know each other. Hi, Cindy, so nice that you could join us,” Mac said, sounding flat and insincere despite her best efforts.
    Cindy Chow was one of the newer members of the Pine Forest Prep senior class, having transferred from St. John’s late last semester. Even if Mac had wanted to hate her guts, she didn’t. Cindy wasn’t part of the Bimbo Cartel, was rumored to ride a motorcycle, and was, unfortunately, super-sweet.
    Damn her.
    “So, you live around here?” Mac politely inquired while secretly wishing the car-loving, Harley-riding, Top Model- pretty transfer student would vanish into thin air.
    “Yep, just up the street,” Cindy said, all dimples and toothy grin, casually flipping ink black hair over her shoulder. “Who’d of thought I’d run into you here, Mac? I didn’t realize you and Alex were friends. Memorial can be such a small world, huh?”
    “Pea-sized,” Mac agreed.
    “Hey”—Alex gestured toward the food Mac had laid out on the granite island in the kitchen—“anyone else hungry? I’m starving all of a sudden.”
    “You promised me peanut butter and jelly, right?” Cindy asked, fixing her doe eyes on Alex. “Please tell me it’s chunky?”
    “Oh, it’s chunky all right,” Alex said, and pushed at the bridge of his glasses, the way he did when he was nervous. “Smooth is for wussies.”
    Oh, God, is he flirting with Cindy?
    Mac felt like she was watching a train wreck. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, but it made her vaguely nauseous.
    “Smooth is so lame,” Cindy agreed with a giggle. “Kind of like driving a Japanese muscle car when you could be driving a Mustang.”
    “Especially a hot-off-the-line Shelby Cobra Mustang,” Alex piped up, and his cheeks flushed. “What kind of power does that baby have under the hood? Five hundred and forty horsepower?”
    “Five fifty,” Cindy said, causing Alex to whistle.
    I’m gonna be sick , Mac thought, trying hard to keep her mouth from hanging open.
    “Hey, Mac, you want Coke or Aquafina?” Alex asked out of the blue, and strode purposefully around the granite island.
    “You’re talking to me?” Mac asked, surprised he’d even remembered she was there. She’d felt invisible during the “chunky versus smooth” discussion.
    Alex’s pale eyes narrowed behind his preppy lenses. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. I said, ‘Hey, Mac,’ didn’t I?”
    “Coke, please,” Mac said, deciding to help him with thedrinks. She started toward him only to watch Cindy blow right past her, saying, “No, no, Mac, you should sit down. Let me do something. I mean, y’all are so sweet to let me hang out with you today. It’s been kind of lonely being the new girl at PFP.”
    Reluctantly, Mac settled onto a stool across the counter, watching the way Alex’s face lit up as Cindy fussed over their modest lunch, folding napkins and distributing chips onto plates while Alex extracted bottles of soda and water from the tiny cooler in his knapsack.
    Something lodged in Mac’s throat—it tasted an awful lot like resentment—and she tried to swallow it down, but it wouldn’t budge. She had a really bad feeling that her perfect day of goofing off with Alex had flown right out Uncle Ed’s window, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

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