AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re going to have to lay low for a while,” I told him. “Don’t go to a lot of places if you can help it. Live your life mellow. Don’t send a lot of packages here or call a lot. My dad will pick up on an increased pattern.”
“I feel like James Bond and shit.”
“Yes, August, that’s exactly what you remind me of. James Bond.”
He laughed. “How are you adjusting? Cricket’s cool, right?”
I looked up and noticed Cricket was perusing the aisles.
“Why didn’t you tell me Cricket was a chick?”
“I just assumed you could tell by the way I talked about her.”
“How? How would I have been able to tell? You’d only say hick things like, ‘Cricket can rope a calf like nobody’s business’ or ‘Cricket can spit fifteen feet’ or ‘Cricket pantsed the school quarterback and got suspended for a week.’ It isn’t conducive to girl-type behavior.”
“At my house it is,” he explained.
“You could have warned me she was fine, though.”
“She is a popular little thing,” he laughed. “I decided to surprise you with that.” We both got quiet. “Oh no, Spencer,” he chimed in, “you can’t. I’m ordering you, bro. Stay away from Cricket. She’s different from the girls we chase.”
“I won’t,” I said. “I have no intention of going after her.” Except that felt like a lie. It didn’t matter; I was determined.
“Good,” he said, calming down a bit. “Besides, she’s with Ethan. They’ve been together since they were kids.”
That weird gut ache invaded my body again and I tried to check it. “Really? I’d no idea they’d been together that long.”
“Yeah, they’re childhood sweethearts and shit.”
Maybe this will make it easier to ignore her. So why does my whole body hurt thinking about it?
“Okay, well, remember what I said, cool?”
“Yeah, I’ve got you.”
“Thanks, August, you’re like a brother to me, even though I want to kick your ass sometimes for being such a douche.”
“I love you too, man.”
“Adios.”
“Peace,” he said and hung up.
I pressed end on Cricket’s phone and breathed a sigh of relief.
Bags in hand, I followed Cricket back to the truck and stuck the purchases behind the driver’s seat on the floor.
“Should we go up?” Cricket asked.
“Yeah, we’ll see where she’s at.”
I climbed the stairs behind Cricket, her amazing backside at eye level. I almost groaned. We walked into the doctor’s office.
“Hey, Perdi, is she ready?”
The beehive receptionist stood and took Cricket’s hand. “Not yet, but I think the baby is just fine.” We both breathed out whatever pent-up stress we were carrying. “How are you?” Perdi asked, her eyes narrowed in that pitying expression people always adopted when they just found out you fell into a big pile of shit or, I guess, cow dung in Cricket’s case.
“I’m fine,” Cricket said, sliding her hand out of Perdi’s. She looked up at me and I furrowed my brows.
