“I’m good.”

“Whatchu mean you’re good? Unless you’re dating one of these ladies, you can have a seat with your boyfriend.”

“Or you can sit with your girlfriend. We can make room.”

It’s like we’re watching beach volleyball, our eyes pinging from one side to the other.

“You think I won’t?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

“You don’t want me to.”

“I do.”

They have forgotten us entirely.

Now he’s trapped. If the point was that they need to sit together, she’s making it impossible. If he refuses, it shows the lie. But if he does eat here, his whole table-grabbing display was pointless.

As if tethered, Chaz and Leeza both stand up with their trays. “Take all the room you need, Gordo.” Tawny reluctantly joins them; no one is leaving her behind.

Now Gordo’s thoroughly flummoxed, and Ma Elena is amused. She pats the seat next to her. “Sit, Gordito.”

I get my tray, too (no chance I’m eating with Gordo), and nudge Ernie, who is eating so much, so fast, he hasn’t really paid attention. But he gets up, too, happy to be included.

Gordo relents and sits, waving at his crew to come over. Vin Weasel looks a little put out, making the universal what-the-hell hand gesture, and Gordo mimes that he has claimed the table. Apparently, it looks like he has scared us off and that they like. As a unit, the boys cross the cafeteria and surround Ma Elena, who looks like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Gordo doesn’t see that Leeza and Chaz have spotted that our vacated table is now empty. We swoop into our old places, with Ernie close behind. We are all laughing at how easily Gordo has been outmaneuvered, and this should feel like a big win, but Chaz isn’t convinced we’ll get to enjoy it. “Eat fast, kiddos,” he says between bites of sandpaper-dry lasagna. “The cavemen will notice soon enough.”

He’s not wrong. Within minutes Gordo is at our table, fuming. “You think you’re so funny.”

Chaz plays innocent. “I think we gave you a whole table.”

“I get what you did there.”

“Do you?” Chaz asks. “Explain it. Use your words.” Gordo’s eyebrow twitches, and he can’t think what to say, which makes Chaz even bolder. “No? I didn’t think so.” A lazy smile slides into place. “Funny that you’d rather be over here with us instead of with your girlfriend.” I love it—it’s like he’s a dialed-back version of me.

No one trumps Gordo. He’s almost spitting. “You little fag! There’s no place for you here. I know what you’re into, perv, and I can get you kicked out. And you’ll be lucky if that’s all I do.”

Chaz’s smile is gone. “Come on, Tawny,” he says. “We don’t need this.”