Page 23 of Airhead

“Hi, you’ve reached Connie⁠—"

“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”

“Bwack. Bwack. Bwack.”

“Hi, you’ve reached Connie⁠—"

“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”

“That was me calling you a chicken. We still need to talk. I mean if you want me to leave a detailed message about the other night, I can. Just figured you may not have told Connie yet. Maybe I’m wrong?”

“Hey it’s Frank. Leave a message at the beep.”

“Don’t you dare say a word. If you do, I’ll tell everyone at the fire station that you wear days-of-the-week underwear.”

“Hi, you’ve reached Connie⁠—"

“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”

“Days-of-the-week underwear is pretty specific. Are you telling me that you wear days-of-the-week underwear? Interesting. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow when you meet me at Marinos to decorate before Fitz’s party.”

“Hey it’s Frank. Leave a message at the beep.”

“So, can you believe I have a parent who wants to have a meeting after school? I’m afraid I can’t help decorate.”

“Hi, you’ve reached Connie⁠—"

“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”

“I’m assuming since you just left me a message—I was in the shower—that you’re home, screening your calls. I can only take from that, and from this supposed meeting that’s going to last for hours, that you’re avoiding me. That’s okay, I can leave a detailed message with everything I needed to tell you about⁠—"

Heart racing and cheeks on fire from embarrassment, Katie grabbed the phone receiver at the same time that she hit the stop button on the answering machine that had become the bane of her existence. “Don’t you dare.”

The phone cord wasn’t long enough to reach into the bathroom, or her bedroom, and Connie wasn’t making even a half-hearted attempt to not look like she was enjoying herself.

Her sister wrapped the quilt their grandma had made for them as a housewarming gift tighter around her shoulders, and settled into the corner of the couch closest to where the phone hung on the wall. Yeah, the phone was in the kitchen, but the apartment was the size of a postage stamp, so it wasn’t like her twin wouldn’t be able to overhear every word.

God help her, Katie was going to kill Frank.

“So you are at home,” Frank said, giving her the grin.

No, she couldn’t see him, but she knew he was doing it. She could just tell. It was as apparent in his voice as his working-class Waterbury accent.

“I was indisposed.” She turned her back to Connie before her sister could non-verbally call her out on that lie, and twisted the phone cord around her finger.

“Does that mean you weren’t staring at the machine, listening, as I left a message?”

Yes, she had been—she’d been like some deer stuck in the headlights, all big eyes and empty head.

“You know you’re really full of yourself,” she said, sounding about a third as badass as she should, even to her own ears. “Not everything is about you.”

“You’re right, this is about us…and our equal share of party prep. Do you really have a parent meeting tomorrow?”

Oh God. Lying on his machine had been hard enough. Lying to him over the phone was impossible. So she fudged it. “Not anymore.”

“Great. I’ll see you at Marinos at six. That gives us an hour to set up before everyone arrives. Which should be plenty of time, unless you want to put moves on me?”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. What was it with this man that messed with her can-do so much?