Molly burst through the door in a blur of curse words and stilettos. For someone who spent more time than should be considered socially acceptable in oversized sports jerseys yelling at referees from the stands, the girl could rock a cocktail dress and killer heels like no other.
“Do I want to know why you’re sitting on the floor?”
“I got distracted. Tea?”
Molly scrunched up her face. “Is it coffee flavored tea?”
“That doesn’t even sound good. Date go well?” Cleo pulled herself to standing and poured the boiled water into her cup.
Her friend sighed and flopped face down onto her bed, mumbling something obscured by the face-full of pillow.
“That good, huh?”
“I mean it was fine, but he didn’t get my pulse racing, y’know?”
Translation: he wasn’t Finn. Molly had had a crush on her big brother’s best friend Finn since before Cleo met her. Nothing had ever happened between them, and never could, but Molly spent her time trying to find a guy who made her laugh like he did. He was her yard stick, the one everyone else failed to stack up against, the one she’d steal glances at when she thought no one else could see. Molly had it bad.
“Wait. Why are you so smiley?”
Oh God.“I’m always this smiley.”
Her friend’s snort made her stomach drop.
“Did you break out the pink nightsaber? Is that what this is? Post screaming-O smiling?”
Cleo groaned. “No. Some dude was following me on the way home. At least, I kinda thought he was. My parents were already asleep and you were out with Jericho, or whatever his name is…”
“We need to get you more friends, girl. So what’d you do?”
Cleo turned her back to Molly so she wouldn’t see her blush. She stirred her tea, plucked the tea bag out by the string and wrapped it around her spoon to squeeze a last bit of flavor into her mug before discarding it in the trash. She dropped a splash of milk into her cup, like her aunt’s British husband taught her, before putting the milk back in the fridge.
“Cleo?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you call anyone to walk you home?”
“Not exactly.” She picked up the spoon and gave her tea another stir.
“You’ve stirred it already.” Molly grabbed her arm and turned her face on. “What gives?”
Cleo sipped her tea, keeping her eyes cast to the ground. “I messaged the randomer from yesterday.”
“Who?” Molly tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Wait. The bra guy?” Her eyebrows shot up her forehead and her voice climbed an octave or two.
Cleo nodded.
“You didn’t!”
Cleo nodded again.
“Of all the people in the world to text, you pick a guy you don’t know, to save you from another guy you don’t know? I mean… for a smart girl you sure do make questionable decisions sometimes. Is he even in Minnesota?”
“He is. I still don’t know his name, but he’s here at the U. He didn’t need to come rescue me, but we texted a bit.” Cleo held her breath. Surely that would be the end of the questions. Maybe if she didn’t move, blink, or breathe, Molly would forget she was even there and move on to the next thing.
“You like him.”
No such luck. “I don’t know him. I can’t like him.” Her defiant stomach flipped.
