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Still grimacing, she says, “Later tonight.”
My brain is still trying to process the news, and I blink while she’s waiting for a response. Keeping my tone casual, I say, “Are you sure dating someone who lives across the hall is a good idea? What if it doesn’t work and living across from him gets awkward?”
She gives me a heavy-lidded stare. “It will be fine. You and Jackson have never dated, and look how well that’s going.”
Okay, fair. “Thank God for that,” I mutter.
She rolls her eyes. “He’s not that bad. I get that he was playing guitar all night, but he’s been respecting the quiet hours since.”
Hearing her defend him stirs something inside me. “But he’s just so . . .” I struggle to find the right word.
If Rae and Matt get together, there’s a good chance we won’t only be hanging out with Matt . . . we’ll have to hang out with Jackson, too. They’re always together.
Which means we’ll be around them a lot.
Matt . . . and Jackson.
“Okay,” she says, waving a hand. “I know you think Jackson is the worst. Can we talk about my date now?” Her eyes go from annoyed to vulnerable. “Because I’m excited but kind of nervous.”
Her comment snaps me out of my haze. “Of course! I’m sorry. I suck. Where are you guys going?”
She shrugs. “He asked me where I wanted to go, so I told him?—”
“Rae, if you told him Chili’s . . .”
“—I told him Chili’s.”
“Rae!” Her name leaves my lips with bubbling laughter, but she just shrugs again.
“What? I like it!”
“I know,” I say with a rueful shake of my head. “But we’re in college now. In another state. Maybe it’s time to try some new places.” I shovel a few back-to-back bites of ice cream into my mouth, and Rae gives me a concerned look.
“What are you doing?”
“We”—I say between bites—“need to figure out what you’re wearing.”
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t even think of that!” She takes a large bite but gives me a tight-lipped smile through it. “Thank you.”
“Hey,” I say after licking my spoon. “I will accept your thanks in the form of?—”
“Yes, I’ll bring you back a molten lava cake,” she says without looking at me.
My lips pull into a smile. “This is why we’re friends.”
10
jackson
Matt doesn’t say a word the whole five-minute drive to Chipotle. He parks, we go inside, and even as we’re standing in line, he’s lost in thought.
“What are you getting?” I scan my options overhead. I’ll get a chicken bowl like I always do, but it gives me something to look at while Matt is busy being weird as fuck.
“Oh, uh . . . probably a bowl. You?”
Rocking back on my heels, I nod. “Same.”
Another beat of silence.
