Page 25 of Bend

“I like you, burger girl,” Cece adds, pointing at me like she’s issuing some kind of official approval. “But I’m watching you.”

“I mean, I’m totally down for a second date. I just had to point out how much easier it was for me to get one. Maybe I should give Revel some pointers.”

She narrows her eyes at me.

Then she breaks into a grin. “Okay. You are definitely a Shaw.”

“Literally,” Lena teases.

Cece flips her off lightly without even looking at her. “Revel thinks persistence is a personality trait.”

“And you secretly love it,” Bex murmurs.

Cece tosses her hair, bangles clinking softly like punctuation. “I tolerate it. There’s a difference. Si él quiere sufrir, that’s on him.”

Lena laughs. “You’re impossible.”

“I have standards,” Cece corrects, completely unbothered. “High ones. You all should try it sometime.”

Before she can launch into a full lecture on her romantic expectations, the waitress comes back balancing plates up her arm like a pro.

She sets everything down one by one—Lena’s salmon, Cece’s shrimp tacos dripping with lime, Bex’s lobster roll perfectly toasted—and finally my burger and fries, the smell of grilled beef and salt cutting through the butter and lemon cloud surrounding the table.

“There you go, ladies,” she says, sliding my iced coffee in front of me.

“Thanks, Marisol,” Bex says easily.

The second the waitress walks away, we all reach for our food like this is routine.

Cece takes one bite of her taco and immediately leans back, eyes closing dramatically. “Okay. Worth it.”

Lena laughs. “You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true every time,” Cece insists, pointing her taco at us like she’s delivering a TED talk. “Don’t act surprised like you didn’t order the exact same thing you order every week.”

I take a bite of my burger and nod once. “Okay. Yeah. I get it now.”

Cece points at me immediately. “See? Burger girl gets it.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” I say around another bite. “I’m just here for the cow.”

Lena snorts.

Cece shakes her head at me, still smiling. “Unbelievable. Comes to a seafood place and orders beef like it’s a personality.”

“Look,” I say, shrugging, “I know my strengths.”

“Your strength,” Cece replies dryly, “is being difficult.”

“Wow,” I say, completely unfazed. “And here I thought we were bonding.”

I grab a fry, dip it in ketchup, and lean back in my chair. Conversation picks up without effort. They start talking about something small—Reign being late to everything except training, Cece threatening to block Revel for sending her a “good morning,” text at six a.m., Bex rolling her eyes about Talon being on everyone's ass about prepping for the upcoming season.

It’s easy.

No one’s circling back to me like I’m a topic, waiting for me to perform. They’re just… talking. Including me naturally, laughing when I add something, and reacting when I throw in a comment of my own.

For the first time since I got here, my shoulders drop without me forcing them to.