Free Undertow by K Conway Page A

She laid her hand on the shorter one’s shoulder and squeezed.  The girl looked up and quickly vacated her seat with her friend, making room for the Queen and her Lady-in-Waiting.
    Just the sight of her – the way she treated everyone around her – was infuriating. 
    My two tablemates didn’t seem to notice her. Cara’s phone had chirped, breaking her monologue, and she was now texting someone, while Jesse was still on his cell.  I sat there, watching Nikki, the ambient noise in the room fading fast. It was as if I could see only her, my peripheral awareness Gonesville.
    MJ hadn’t noticed the two, irritating new patrons at the counter.  He was madly scooping ice cream when Nikki reached past the counter and grabbed onto his sleeve. MJ, jerked short by her grasp, dropped the large sundae he had slaved over, and the tin bowl created a resounding clang on the tile floor. 
    He turned, stunned, and saw Nikki. From her gestures, I could tell that she wanted to be served, quickly, and ahead of the already waiting customers. MJ, no doubt using all his willpower to not strangle her with his apron, nodded dutifully as he started cleaning the mess. Nikki tossed her flawless locks and turned to talk with her subservient sidekick.
    I felt the darkness of rage, laced with a need for vengeance, overtake the saner part of my brain. The Queen had already shown her absolute distaste for me. I might as well kick the hornet’s nest and bring the rain. 
    All sense of sanity gone, I turned to Cara, whose thumbs were flying over the microscopic keyboard of her phone. “How much is a milkshake?” I asked calmly, stroking the sweating, icy glass, which was nearly full.
    “Hmmm?” asked Cara absently, her eyes never leaving the phone, “Uh, three-fifty.”
    “Then I owe you three-fifty,” I said calmly, my plan solidified in my head. I stood up from the bench seat, the milkshake firmly in my hand.
    “Wait. What?” said Cara, finally looking up from her phone, but I was already making my way through the packed room.
    Stealthily.
    Deliberately.
    I could feel my body tingle with excitement and an absolutely fabulous feeling of imminent justice.
    As I approached the far end of the counter, luck was for once on my side. Nikki had her back to me and was still deep in self-absorbed conversation with the Pompom, who was nodding obediently at everything she said.
    I caught MJ’s eye and he, understanding my devious intent, started to frantically shake his head ‘no.’ I simply smiled back to him. If this girl was going to make our lives a nightmare, then it was my duty to repay the courtesy.
    I saw MJ, still behind the counter, also start towards Nikki’s seat. I was almost to her, when she saw MJ out of the corner of her eye.
    She turned slightly and yelled to him, “You know, if you were any slower, it would be prom season before I got what I wanted!”
    The twit sealed her fate.
    I pretended to trip, letting out a yelp. Nikki turned toward the sound of my voice just as a double thick chocolate shake splashed all over her face and perfect hair, soaking her True Religion jeans and top.
    She launched to her feet, howling in rage and disbelief. Her mascara began a southern trek down her face, adding to her ridiculous appearance as she frantically wiped the ice cream from her eyes. The entire shop went completely silent.
    Pompom was stunned.
    It was as if I was David and got Goliath square between the eyes. No one could believe that I had just taken on the wrath of the beast. I heard someone at the end of the bar swear and looked over to MJ whose eyes were huge, but his mouth barely contained a grin.
    When she was finally able to open her eyes, Nikki was beyond livid. She was shaking with fury and when she saw me with the glass, I actually thought she would combust.
    “I . . . am . . . going to KILL you!” she roared and launched herself at me.
    I threw my hands up, ready to defend myself, but there was suddenly a wall of black