Brooks

“Where are we selling tonight?” I ask Mom as soon as she pulls the car away from our house.

“The food truck and your father are near the new nightclub,” she replies without taking her eyes off the road.

“What nightclub?”

“I don’t remember its name, but it’s the one where the rich people go.”

“Flaming Diamonds,” my little brother Benji chimes in from the back seat.

“How do you know that?” I instantly turn to face the living terror who somehow has a way more successful social life than I do, even though I’m seventeen and he’s twelve.

“Everyone but you knows about that place,” he mocks, pointing at me. “You don’t because your only friends are your boyfriend and Mackenzie.”

“Ryan is not my boyfriend,” I hiss, narrowing my eyes.

“Then why did he sleep over Saturday night?” Mom arches an eyebrow—she doesn’t look mad, but she doesn’t look thrilled either.

I immediately blush, fully aware that my mother knows about my little adventures with Ryan.

“You need to control your daughter, Karen,” Benji smirks, laughing out loud.

“Don’t call me Karen, Benjamin.” Mom glares daggers at him through the rearview mirror. “We’ve talked about this already.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” my brother mutters in a low voice, though I know he’s totally faking it.

“How was your day?” Mom shifts her attention back to me. Thankfully, she spares me from the awkward talk about safe sex and boys taking advantage—I’m pretty sure Benji’s presence is the only reason why.

“It was normal,” I respond with a shrug. “I’m trying to find students to tutor so I can earn extra money and help you and Dad finish paying off the truck.”

“I appreciate the thought, sweetie, but you’re already helping us enough. Instead of worrying about us, focus on your studies and getting into your dream university.”

“I know, Mom, but I want to do more. You and Dad are struggling to pay the bills, the truck, and the rent, so I want to help however I can.” I offer her a reassuring smile.

“Look, it’s Dad,” Benji exclaims, pointing at our food truck—Bumps Burger.

Mom parks the old car nearby, and we all hop out and head straight for Dad, who is already busy grilling burgers and juggling hungry customers.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” he says as we step into the truck, a grateful smile on his face. “Brook, can you take orders while your mom and I handle the grill?”

I nod and position myself in front of the cashier window.

“What about me?” Benji pouts.

“You, young man, should sit and finish your homework,” Mom orders, narrowing her brown eyes at him.

Benji groans but slinks into the driver’s seat and opens one of his books with a dramatic sigh.

* * *

The next hour flies by as waves of hungry, smashed partygoers line up to shove something edible into their alcohol-soaked stomachs—only to throw it all up later. Apparently, the nightclub is one of the hottest spots in Seattle right now, which doesn’t surprise me, as only the A-list crowd gets in, while the rest of us commoners watch from the outside.

“What time is it?” I ask Dad once the crowd thins out, giving me a moment to breathe.

“Ten-thirty p.m.,” he replies while refilling the ketchup bottles.

“I’m sleepy,” Benji whines from the driver’s seat. “Can’t Mom drive me home?” He rubs his eyes and yawns dramatically, really committing to the bit.

“I have to stay until your dad closes the truck.” Mom offers him a gentle smile. “But your sister can drive you home. It’s a school night, and you both need to rest.”

“Hell no,” Benji objects, recoiling like she’d asked him to jump off a cliff. “Brook is a terrible driver, and I’m way too young to die.” He crosses his arms and glares.

I take a deep breath, count from one to ten, and turn to face the window—my go-to strategy to avoid swearing at him in front of our parents again. Last time I lost it, they took my phone away for a whole week. Seven days. I swear I almost succumbed to my fate as an Amish.

“Why can’t I stay home alone? I’m twelve. I don’t need a babysitter anymore,” Benji grumbles, his childish tone completely undermining his argument.

“Oh my gosh, Benji, stop complaining already,” I snap, annoyed. I love my little brother to death, but he seriously pisses me off sometimes.

Before he can fire back, a loud group of people approaches the truck, laughing, shouting, and yelling profanities at the sky above them—go figure.

“Excuse me?” a male voice calls out from outside the window.

“Yes?” I shift my attention to the potential customer—and freeze. My jaw nearly drops to the floor, and my legs start shaking like jelly.

Dimitris Evans, Oak Hills High School’s star receiver and one of the infamous Evans twins, is beaming at me. His beautiful green eyes catch my attention first, and I find myself holding his gaze longer than what’s probably socially acceptable.

“Can I have a cheeseburger, fries, and a soda, please?” Dimitris asks, his tone polite and casually confident.

I nod quickly, trying to break the weird eye contact happening between us. Although, he’s probably used to girls gawking at him like this—I mean, there’s no way I’m the first, and I’m definitely not going to be the last.

Another guy I recognize from the football team—he’s attractive, with black hair and warm brown eyes—throws an arm around Dimitris’ shoulder. “What are you ordering?”

“A cheeseburger, fries, and a soda,” Dimitris repeats, glancing back as the rest of the group catches up.

“Timmy, what do you want?” he yells toward his twin, who’s chatting with a blonde girl I know all too well—Zoe, the captain of the Oak Hills cheerleading squad.

As my gaze drifts to the rest of the girls surrounding them, I suddenly feel way too aware of myself—my dark hair is pulled into a messy bun, my T-shirt is old and splattered with the food truck logo, and my ripped jeans have seen better days. I’m makeup-free, smelling like burgers, and honestly, I probably have ketchup somewhere on me.

Meanwhile, the cheerleaders are rocking short, clingy dresses, flawless makeup, and high heels that I wouldn’t last five minutes in. I’d probably trip, fall flat on my face, and die of a concussion right in front of the freaking Evans twins.

Timothée Evans steps closer to his brother and the other player whose name I don’t know. He quickly scans the menu hanging under the window before locking eyes with me for the first time.

I immediately notice the depth of his mesmerizing blue eyes, which are the complete opposite of my tired, dark ones. His perfect lips, pointed nose, and tousled golden hair falling over his eyes give him an effortlessly adorable boyish charm. My gaze travels down to his broad chest under a basic black T-shirt, then to his dark jeans that probably cost more than my rent.

For the first time in years, I finally understand why every girl at school is obsessed with him. He’s undeniably the most attractive, breathtaking guy I’ve ever seen, more so than any artist or model I’ve seen in movies or magazines.

“I’ll have a simple burger, onion rings, and a soda,” Timothée says to his brother, breaking the spell as he looks away from me, much to my relief.

“A simple burger, onion rings, and a soda,” Dimitris repeats his brother’s order to me.

At the same time, Timothée, without sparing me a second glance, heads back to his position near Zoe and the other girls, a reminder that I’m invisible to him and his friends.

“I want a hot dog and an orange juice,” the handsome boy whose name I don’t know says, smiling politely.

“That’ll be thirty-four dollars,” I mumble, my voice shaky. It’s the first time I’ve talked to the popular crowd, and even though I don’t care much about them, the fact that the Evans twins are ridiculously gorgeous makes me nervous as hell. I don’t even know how they got in here at this hour, considering they’re all underage, but I guess their last name, looks, and money can get them anywhere.

“That’s incredibly cheap,” Dimitris comments, surprised, handing me a fifty-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

My mouth hangs open as I stare at him in awe, completely speechless.

“The orders are ready.” Mom comes to my rescue, placing the burgers, fries, onion rings, hot dog, and drinks on the countertop next to me.

I shoot her a thankful smile before passing Dimitris the food through the window.

“That was fast,” he remarks, sounding genuinely astonished as he accepts the mountain of calories. “These look great,” he adds, flashing me a grin that completely throws me off.

“Dimmy, let’s go. Dad just called, and he’s pissed off because it’s a school night,” Timothée yells from afar.

“Get your food, and let’s go, then,” Dimitris responds.

Timothée walks over and takes the tray his brother is holding. Once again, he doesn’t spare me a glance, and I feel a strange, hollow disappointment settle in my chest.

In the blink of an eye, the popular students are gone, leaving me alone with my family. To say I’m stunned by what just happened is an understatement. Exchanging even a single word with one of the Evans twins is a big deal. I’m sure thousands of girls would kill to be in my shoes right now, especially Macs.

“Brook, you should take your brother home and get some rest. You’ve helped enough for today,” my dad tells me. “Your mother and I can handle the rest of the orders.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I kiss him on the cheek and remove my apron. “Let’s go, Benji. I’m driving us home.” I nudge my little brother, who is napping in the driver’s seat. He lazily opens his eyes, grabs his books, and climbs out of the truck, following me.

* * *

As I drive home, I can’t shake the quarterback’s blue eyes from my mind. He’s so freaking gorgeous, even though he was serious most of the time and barely spoke to me—unlike his brother, whose smile was super friendly. Dimitris seems a lot nicer than Timothée, but honestly, I don’t care about them or their friends, as today was the first and last time we interacted, and I’m sure they don’t even remember me by now.

Once home, I take a quick shower and crawl into bed, ready to shut off my brain. I’m so tired that all I want to do is sleep and forget about today’s events. However, no matter how hard I try, the quarterback’s unexpected presence insists on haunting me until dawn, ruining my night and messing with my senses.