“Jesus,” Christine says. “Well at least now will you believe me when I say he’s not worth your time?”

“Eh.” Ava shrugs. “Well see.”

Christine looks defeated.

“Do you have your Juul?” Ava asks, changing the subject.

The second girl reaches into a small leather purse and pulls out what looks like a flash drive.

“Can I get some tea?” Ava asks the waiter with a winning smile as he leaves the room.

“I don’t know,” Braden says, looking at Ava. “The guy has a point—how can you pass up a 9 or above?”

About half the table laughs, and the other just looks at him. It is pretty much divided according to gender.

I elbow him in the side.

“What, it was a joke,” he says.

“It’s a rude joke,” I quip back.

“Thank you, new girl,” Ava says. “Braden, I like this one.”

The waiter sets her tea in front of her and she nods briefly. “The girls he typically brings around just kiss his ass, if they speak at all.”

The other girl laughs. “Yeah, sometimes they just stare into space.”

“Or at their reflection in every shiny surface,” Ava adds.

I smile at the compliment, although I feel a bit sick to my stomach about the context.

The waiter returns and sets down tiny plates of raw fish perfectly arranged with spices and sauces.

I wait for a few other people to take food before I pick up my chopsticks and carefully take a small piece of bright pink fish that I’m guessing is tuna.

“Hey.” I nudge Braden with my elbow. “Do you know what—”

“One second,” he tells me, before turning away and yelling down the table, “Hey, will you pass the lobster?”

I shrug and turn back to my food. The piece of fish is so tiny that I eat it in one bite. It is tuna, garnished with a sort of spicy ginger sauce. It’s really good, but I couldn’t tell you what made this this, and the sushi from the place at home cheap.

I reach for another one, but Braden places his hand on mine. “You don’t want that,” he says. “It’s fattening.”

“Sure I do,” I say, shoving a piece in my mouth.

“Sara, be a lady,” he says.

My shoulders inch up toward my ears, and heat builds in my stomach. My natural response to a rude comment by a douchey guy. Or I guess, in this case, my boyfriend.

I sit up straighter and look right at him. “I am,” I say with food in my mouth. He glares at me, and I am debating how far I want to take this showdown when something across the table catches my eye.

Ava puts the flash-drive-looking item to her lips. She lowers one hand and raises the other, holding her tea.