Free City Secrets by Jessica Burkhart

doesn’t make you want to puke.”
    Heather put her own Chanel wallet into her purse and we waited for our food. It didn’t take long—the Shake Shack workers had it down. Within minutes we were handed our food, and we scanned the seating area.
    â€œThere’s a table,” I said. We walked toward it and put down our food, hanging our purses off the backs of our chairs. I took a bite of my hot dog and looked up at Heather.
    â€œThere’s no way a
hot dog
can be this good,” I said. “Seriously.”
    Heather took a giant bite of her burger and nodded. “It’s weird, right? We eat burgers and hot dogs all the time at school, but there’s something about the food here. I have no idea what it is.”
    I tried a fry, and it was just as delish as the hot dog. A sip of my chocolate milkshake cemented my idea.
    â€œBefore we go back to Canterwood,” I said, “we have to load up Paul’s trunk with food from Shake Shack.”
    Heather laughed. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. But we could try. We’ll have to get a cooler for the milkshakes.”
    We talked and giggled through lunch. For once, things with Heather felt easy. There wasn’t any of the weirdness I’d imagined we’d have with it being just us. I’d worried about that because it hadn’t really been Heather and me alone before—Julia or Alison had always been there. But without them Heather acted less like a clique leader and more like a, well, normal person.
    While we ate I people-watched. There were men in suits, people in jogging clothes, women pushing strollers, a girl with a pink faux-hawk, and a guy with piercings from his earlobe to the top of his ear.
    â€œI think a lot of people really have the wrong idea about New Yorkers,” I said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Heather asked.
    â€œI’ve heard people say that New Yorkers are rude and that the city’s this big, scary place. But I haven’t gotten hit by a taxi or had my purse snatched.”
    â€œYet,” Heather said, smirking. “No, you’re right. We get a bad rap, but I bet you could ask just about anyone on the sidewalk for directions and they’d take time to help.”
    â€œI believe it.”
    My phone chimed in my purse. I reached around and pulled it out.
    S—can we talk soon? Pls? ~P
    I snapped my phone shut and tossed it into my purse. I jammed a handful of fries into my mouth. Swallowing, I looked up at Heather. Something just made me want to talk to her. And I really didn’t have anyone else.
    â€œThat was Paige,” I said. “She wants to talk, but I don’t have anything to say to her right now. I’m just . . .”
    Heather waited, sipping her milkshake, while I tried to figure out what I was trying to say.
    â€œI’m just stunned, I guess,” I continued. “I thought we were so much closer than we were.”
    â€œAre you going to tell me what you fought about, or do we have to play that dumb guessing game that I always win?” Heather gave me The Look.
    â€œShe brought up the Jacob mess at Homecomingdance. I have
no
idea why she did that, since I’d already told her the truth. Then she said it was more than that. I asked her what she was talking about and it just blew up. Paige said I was jealous that she had a boyfriend and I didn’t.”
    Heather sat back in her chair. “Are you
kidding
?”
    â€œUm, no!” I shook pepper onto my fries. “I have no clue where that came from and I told her that. I reminded her that I was the one who pushed her to get together with him.”
    â€œYou’d never be jealous of Paige, especially over a boy,” Heather said, her voice quiet. “I can’t believe she said that.”
    â€œMe either. And that’s when I told her that I wasn’t staying with her over break.”
    â€œThat would have been beyond uncomfortable. It was