“You could. I’ll design a cover and you can self-publish like Gigi,” Kennedy replies, almost falling out of her chair as her eyes widen. “Thirteen-year-olds would eat that shit up.”
“It’s a possibility but it’s also a lot of work.”
“Since when are you afraid of hard work?” Scarlett asks with a sceptical look. “Maybe not now but I really think you should in the future. With a bit of editing, it would be perfect. I’m sure G would help you.”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to mentally add that on my thousand-word long to-do list. “Anyway, I’m thinking of making Carmen fake her death andthenrun away to start a new empire.”
“I hate that idea a little less,” Kennedy says thoughtfully before her face lights up again. “Will she have a sidekick?”
“I’m thinking that Vita will go with her,” I reply.
“Isn’t she, like, a million years old?” Kennedy asks, flicking through the printed sheets of my book in front of her.
“Yeah, but she’s in a middle-aged woman’s body. She’s basically like a Cullen,” I say with a waft on my hand.
“Oh,that’scool,” Kennedy agrees nodding her head. “I give you permission to end it that way.”
“Why, thank you,” I reply, nodding my head towards her. Scarlett pulls the paper out of Kennedy’s hand and looks over it with a serious expression. They are both my harshest writing critics, but Scarlett looks more at the intricate details more than anything. Kennedy just worried about how hot the protagonist is going to be.
“So, talking about boys…” Kennedy drags out with a whistle.
“We weren’t,” I say with a bored tone. She ignores it anyway.
“How are things with he-who-shall-not-be-named?”
I roll my eyes at Kennedy and shake my head. They’ve not managed to go a week without bringing him up and the answer is the same every time, but they can’t let it go. They’re expecting me to just wake up one day and completely forgive him and move on. To ignore every red flag and let myself get distracted.
“There are no ‘things’ with him. We’ve not spoken, and I don’t think we will for a while,” I respond with a huff.
“Can’t you guys at least be civil? It’s my birthday soon and I want to invite his friends,” Kennedy says, chewing on her bottom lip. “Obviously, if you don’t want me to invite them, I won’t.”
“Do whatever you want to do, Ken. I’ve got to go meet Austin before practice,” I say dismissing her. Scarlett looks up from the papers and flashes a small smile as I get up and walk out of the café.
*
After the heated conversations at my mom’s house, Austin and I have been seeing a lot of each other lately while I avoid my mom like the plague. She’s planning on moving to Portland with Zion but for the time being they’re staying in a hotel in Salt Lake so Austin can visit us, and Zion can see his mom’s side of the family.
I’ve done more baby shopping this past month than I have ever done in my whole life. My mom is an only child – thank God for that – so I don’t have any close cousins or relatives from her side of the family. My dad has three older brothers, but they all had kids a long time ago, so I’ve never got to go baby shopping before and it’s so much fun. All the tiny clothes are so adorable that it makes my heart swell but watching the mothers in the stores with their toddlers is just another reminder to take my birth control.
We’ve also been going to this new restaurant that has opened up called Juno’s. It was a phenomenon in Florida, but they’ve started to franchise, and the food is incredible. Being pregnant has changed Austin a lot. At first, she was a total control freak but now, sat in Juno’s with her maternity dungarees and wild hair, she has become more content with having a baby and I couldn’t be happier.
“What are you going to get?” Austin asks, skimming over the menu again, biting her lip in concentration.
“The usual: a chicken salad."
“Do you think if I ask for a fry-up with extra tomatoes and extra hash browns, they won’t ask any questions?” she asks.
“Considering your belly is the size of a watermelon, I'd dare them to.”
“Okay, good.” She looks through the menu again before placing it down. Austin smiles wide when the waiter comes over and asks for our orders. When she’s floated out of sight, she turns to me. “Have you spoken to mom during comp season?”
“No, I haven’t seen her since the first show. We were both pretty catty with each other the last time we spoke,” I admit, thinking back to everything that happened that weekend. “Have you?”
She shrugs then shakes her head. “She’s doing the thing where she’s pretending that I’m not carrying a seven-pound baby thats going to be her grandchild,” Austin laughs. “I don’t mind. I just hope that she’ll come around when he’s here.”
“I do too,” I say, taking a sip of my strawberry lemonade. “Have you thought of any names yet?”
“Zion isobsessedwith the name Marley. Which definitely doesn’t have anything to do with his undying love for Bob Marley. I kind of love it though.” She grins wide when she mentions Zion.
