“How’d you meet him?” she asks.
Her smile has weakened at this point and I’m quiet for even longer, so it becomes awkward.
She forces another smile and starts fiddling with her phone on the table.
The sight of her phone clears my mind for a moment, because I can’t believe I’m just thinking of this.
She has a phone.
I can’t call Liam from mine because they can check it, but no one would ever think to check Bethany’s.
Noticing my stare, she lifts the phone, flips it over. “Like it? I just upgraded to this new one yesterday, so I’m still learning all the new features.”
I drag my gaze from the phone to look at her. “Can I use your phone?”
Her excitement spikes again. “Yeah, of course!” She pushes it across the table, but I’m still looking at her face, because something feels wrong. She’s too excited. Why is she this excited? I’m making her feel uncomfortable and not answering her questions. There’s something in her eyes, something that isn’t excitement, and I don’t know exactly what it is. Is she nervous?
A chill settles over me and I sink against the back cushion of the booth.
Her smile falters and all that’s left for a split second is the nervousness. She recovers the smile quickly, but it’s too late.
I don’t trust her anymore.
My gaze moves away from her and out the pane of glass in the window. There are too many cars and I would never be able to finger the person or people following me anyway, but I can’t help looking.
I look back at Bethany, and she’s still waiting for me to take her goddamn phone.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
Her smile looks fake to me now. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but since my house is being watched, maybe I’m not.
“Fine,” I say half-heartedly.
She glances pointedly at her phone. “I need to go to the bathroom anyway, I’ll give you a little privacy.”
She winks and scoots out of the booth. Once I’m satisfied she’s not lingering, I pick up her phone and swipe it open. I touch the phone icon, but instead of making a call, I check her call log. Empty. That’s not too weird, given she just told me she upgraded to this phone yesterday, but then I swipe over to contacts and that’s empty, too.
Like her cart at the grocery store.
I go back to the numbers and my eyes dance across the ones that comprise Liam’s memorized phone number.
I can’t call him, because whether it’s paranoia or it isn’t, my instincts are telling me this is a trap.
I dial numbers anyway, but they’re mine. In my purse, my own cell phone rings and I ignore the call. I just want her phone number.
I check over my shoulder again, then I call the number on my cell and wait impatiently until it goes to voice mail. I don’t know how long she’ll be in the bathroom, and I don’t want to get caught checking up on her.
“Hi, you’ve reached Bethany’s phone! I can’t answer right now, but leave a message or shoot me a text and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a nice day!” I hang up before it starts recording, then I go into the call log in her phone and erase the calls I just made so it’s empty again.
Placing the phone back on the table, I stare at it.
What if I’m being crazy? What if Bethany just has a new phone and hasn’t transferred her old stuff over, and she’s just nervous and excited because we’re old friends but I’m weird now? What if I’m squandering the only chance I’ll get to reach out to Liam without anyone knowing I did?
But what if I’m not?
When Bethany comes back, she asks how my call went. I tell her I remembered after she walked away he wasn’t on lunch yet. I’m tempted to fill her up with all the answers she wants, but all of them lies. I want to, just to waste everyone’s time, but if I do that and she is in league with Pietro or Paul or whoever the fuck is doing this, then they’ll know I suspect something.
“You weren’t planning to meet him for lunch, were you? I hope I didn’t ruin your plans.”