“You’re getting that furrow again,” Marlee sang underneath her breath.
I ignored her, watching April carefully. Only because I was curious if she was going to date Julia, not because I cared.
“My mom maneuvered me into having dinner alone with Julia and her family,” she explained. “It was hella awkward. But Julia wasn’t interested, and neither was I, so I lied and told Mrs. Montego that I had a girlfriend.”
“You haven’t had a girlfriend in like two years,” Marlee reminded her.
“I’m aware. Julia is cute and all, but as soon as I saw her and realized who she was, I was out.”
“Why were you out?” I asked curiously. “You weren’t attracted to her?”
April had always loved quirky women, especially the lipstick lesbians.
“I was out because we’ve been watching you two circle each other for years,” April said. “No way am I getting in the middle of that shit.”
I looked between my friends. “I don’t get it.”
“You will.”
Julia
Irushed into the coffee shop, irritated that I was late. I hated to be late, it made me nervous. Of course Chris was already seated at a table, coffee and a pastry in front of her. I waved in greeting, then joined the line to place my order.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said to Chris as I made my way to the table. “The bus was running behind schedule.”
“It’s only nine oh eight,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
I set my bag on the floor by the chair, then headed back up to the counter to retrieve my order. Once I had caffeine in hand, I returned to Chris.
She looked good today. She was wearing a fitted white knit top with a scoop neck, with a denim jacket, jeans, and her ubiquitousboots. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her wearing anything else. I wondered idly if she had multiple pairs of them or if she just wore the same boots until they wore out.
“What?”
I realized I was smiling. “I was remembering you wore black Doc Martens to our high school graduation.”
She’d probably worn them for the college ceremony too, but the event was so large I hadn’t seen her that day. Not that I’d been looking for her.
She smirked, and I noticed that the movement made her nose crinkle adorably.
“Yeah my mom forced me to wear a dress, but I refused to wear the damned ballet flats she picked out. She was horrified that I was wearing my boots with a dress, but Dad intervened and told her to leave me alone. That was the last time she tried to influence my clothing choices.”
“How are your parents?” I asked politely.
I’d spent a lot of time with them over the years, and they’d always been nice to me. It made it even more strange that they’d raised such a loathsome daughter.
“They’re fine. The same. How about yours?”
“They’re good,” I said. “Although my mom’s been on my ass to get married.”
“So I heard.”
“How’d you hear that?” I asked in surprise. “From your mom?”
“No, my friend April was one of your mom’s ambush victims.”
I mentally went through the list of women my mother had thrown my way the last few months, then I remembered.
“Oh yeah, the accountant, right? Frumpy dresser?”
