"I still can’t believe you’re trying to claim you don’t know him," she hissed, sounding a bit surly. I shifted uncomfortably, attempting to downplay the situation. "Charlotte, you're making a big deal out of nothing. I served his table at Franco’s. That’s it. We barely talked." I sounded nonchalant, but inside, I was a different story. I was replaying the moment when his eyes locked onto mine, the wink he'd given…the blown kiss. And obsessing/freaking out over the fact that his name was Ari. My first crush was a boy named Ari. But there was no way this was the same guy. Kids from a group home
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