Molly gasped. “Ohhhhh lord, it wasn’t a peck, was it? Never play poker, Cleo, your game face is awful. It’s written all… over…” She pointed at Cleo. “Shit. Hot damn. Did your lady parts have a party, Cho-Cho? I’m your best friend. I am entitled to this kind of information.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m done with all this dude-shit.”
“Done?” Molly crossed her arms, pursed her lips and squinted one eye. “Like, done, done? Or like I’m done with this crush over Finn-fucking-O’Brien, done? And no!” She held up a hand to stop Cleo from pursuing that line of questioning. “We aren’t talking about me right now. So which is it? Are you done? Or do you just wish you were?”
“I’m done.” Cleo hoped her firm nod was convincing enough, but from the wry smirk pulling at her friend’s mouth, she’d failed.
“So… you’re done with entertaining the… uhm…” Molly waved a hand as though she was searching for the right word. “Penis-distractions, but you went and got yourself a job at the coffee shop? I mean… sounds to me like you’re trading one distraction for another.”
Cleo swallowed her bite of fish taco. Wiping her hand on a napkin she held it up. “Don’t. Okay? I know it doesn’t sound like it makes sense.”
“But? I mean you don’t owe me an explanation, or justification. I just… can’t figure out why you’d want to go get a job and take time away from school.” She pursed her lips and narrowed her stare. “Mamá Martinez have anything to do with this?”
Cleo took another bite of her taco and pointed at her mouth as if to communicate that she couldn’t answer because her mouth was full.
Molly popped her hip, planted her hands at her waist, and arched an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Nice try. I can wait all day for an answer, girlfriend.”
“Ugh. Fine. Yes. They want me to appreciate the value of money and hard work – because for some reason they think I don’t? I dunno. Anyway, sure they give me an allowance and I have my student loans, but it’sjustshy of what I need.”
She picked at the slivers of cheese dangling from the remains of her taco. “During our chat a couple weeks ago they sent me a spreadsheet mamá created to help me ‘understand my finances’. They calculated that I could work for ten to twelve hours a week somewhere like the coffee house without it adversely affecting my studies.”
“Huh. Nice of them to do the math for you and everything. Did they apply for the job for you too?”
Cleo winced at the sarcasm dripping from Molly’s words.
“Sorry. That was harsh. I’m menstrual.”
“Harsh but fair. I mean I know they love me and want what’s best for me. I know they want me to be successful and respected…” She sighed.
“Buuut?”
“But it’s stifling, you know? All I feel is pressure… and it’s not like I don’t put myself under plenty of that as it is.”
“So of course you went out and got yourself a job to… add…more… pressure?” Molly’s screwed up face made Cleo giggle.
“Ironically it takes away some pressure. It gets them off my back about something so I can focus without worrying that I’m gonna get nagged every week.”
“Damn girl.” Molly crossed the kitchen and pulled a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer. Grabbing two spoons, she yanked off the lid, dropped herself onto the seat next to Cleo and offered her a spoon. “I’m not sure Ben or Jerry can fix this, but it can’t hurt to try. My parents are pains in the cooch sometimes, but I think I’d buckle under that kind of parental pressure.”
“Your folks aren’t like that?” Cleo speared her spoon into the solid ice cream, not waiting for it to melt a little. She jabbed at the chunk of cookie dough embedded near the top.
Molly hissed. “We gotta get you laid, amiga. The frustration is seeping from your every pore. You don’t gotta get all stabby on the ice cream! What did it ever do to you?” She snatched the tub from the table and pulled it close to her chest, whispering sweet nothings at it before shoveling a heaped spoonful into her mouth and moaning. “So. Good.”
Waving her spoon at Cleo, she continued. “No, my folks aren’t like that. I mean, they care, and they’re invested, and have opinions… but spreadsheets and that level of strict? Nuh uh. Not even with Will, and he was their first child. Parents are generally more over protective of their first, right? I guess my parents might be easygoing? Certainly by comparison to yours. What does Mr. Darcy say?” She dug in for another spoonful of ice cream while Cleo pulled out her phone and brought up his messages.
“He told me he picked up a minor he’s keeping secret from his parents.”
“Wow. What are the odds that both of you have strict AF parents? Wonder if he’s getting a job at the coffee shop too.”
“It’s weird not knowing who he is.”
“And he still won’t meet?”
Cleo shrugged, and sank her teeth into her lip. She didn’t want to tell her best friend about how obnoxious the demons in her mind were. How they screamed at her that he wasn’t meeting her in public because she wasn’t enough for him. She wasn’t in the mood for one of Molly’s pep talks.
“I bet he’s scared.”
Yeah, of me being a friggin’ ugly whale.
