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honey-brown eyes that seem so harmless. They seem hopeless, sincerely desperate for a brief breath of help—willing just to take an inch, not steal a mile.
                  Fighting deja vu, I croak out, “Where’d you get that hat?”
                  He smiles, flattered by my response, and says, “From—”
                  “There you are, Nick!” A shrill-pitched voice startles the remainder of my hunger away.
                  “Yes, here I am,” he clears his throat and scoots closer to me.
                  “I’ve been looking for you all over!” she coos, her finger twirling around the string on her lime-green bikini bottoms. My attention turns to her long, straight, bright-blonde hair, her out-of-the-package tan, the small “beauty mark” beside her nose (though if she were me, people would call it a blemish), and her slender frame that would make some of the biggest names in Hollywood jealous. This is what he’s hiding from? Yeah, this has to be some sort of con. No guy in his right mind would run from her instead of to her.
                  “Well, I’ve been talking to my date,” his head slowly turns to me, his crooked smile revealing a dimple in his left cheek.
                  “Peyton,” I wipe my hand and extend it for her to take. I decide to see where this is going. The last time I tried it, it didn’t turn out too badly.
                  She looks me up and down before sneering, “Are you actually eating?”
                  “That’s what people who have food in front of them usually do,” my snippy remark raises a chuckle out of Nick.
                  “Do you have any idea how many animals were harmed for you to chomp down on that?”
                  Sarcastically, I respond, “Two?
                  “Do you know how they were butchered and slaughtered? Do you know how sad and lonely they were before they were massacred to make you, well...” she waves her fingers at my curves, which Justin has already reassured me are sexy and not disgusting, “look like that.” Now I understand why he’s hiding from her. She’s just a tad bit bitchy.
                  “So, if the animals I ate were lonely and sad, how miserable and depressed were the vegetables you were eating to make you look like ... well, that?” My response raises Nick’s eyebrows as though he might have hit the jackpot.
                  Annoyed, she snips, “Do you have any idea how many calories are in the food you’re consuming?”
                  “Can you spell consuming?” The words slide off my tongue with disdain.               Annoyed, she rolls her eyes, “That’s not the point!”
                  “It was my point,” I clarify, picking my fork back up. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
                  Pleased with my self-confidence, I glance at Nick, who in any normal situation would be just the kind of guy I’d sketch in my notebook and then spend hours cataloging why he would never notice me.
                  “Please,” Nick tilts his head at her, which forces her to stomp her foot in a pout. She huffs off back toward the house, where I assume she’ll bury her sorrow in anything with a fruity look, fruity name, or fruity taste.
                  As soon as she’s out of sight, he breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”
                  “You’re welcome,” I push my skewer away, thinking about the increasing number on the scale. But in all fairness, I hadn’t eaten anything in the last couple of days, and one of those days was my birthday! “She’s definitely hot. Beautiful even.”
                  Nick glances in the direction she wandered off to nurse her wounds and then looks back at me, “That’s what they say