Page 52 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“Because they’re forbidden?” Chase asks.

“Maybe. Smart girls are hot, though.” Gage taps on the arm of his chair.

“There are lots of smart girls out there who aren’t your tutor. Ask one of them on a date,” Brody suggests.

“Smart girls don’t want to date dumb jocks,” Gage says.

“Way to stereotype yourself, bro. You have language learning disability. Just because the essay parts of your classes give you the gears doesn’t mean you’re a dumb jock. You’re basically a rocket scientist with the math stuff,” Chase argues.

“And you teach people ASL. Give yourself some credit.” I used to think Gage was just a run-of-the-mill fuckboy, but lately it seems less about wanting to be that way, and more about his self-esteem.

“Things to consider.” Gage rubs his chin. “Anyway, I agree on the blue shirt. And wear your black jeans. Those are good ass jeans, and I’ve caught Fee staring more than once when you wear them.”

“Good to know.” I change my jeans, brush my teeth, and spritz myself with cologne, then go back for extra deodorant before I return to the living room. “How do I look?”

“Like the kind of guy girls take home to meet the parents,” Gage offers.

“You look good.” Brody gives me a single thumbs-up.

“Are you bringing her flowers or a treat?” Chase asks.

“Yes?”

They all narrow their eyes.

“I’ll pick up flowers on the way.”

“Or get her popcorn since you already know she loves the stuff,” Chase suggests.

“Good call. If the flowers look weak, popcorn it is.”

Gage gives me props. “You got this, Mac! Go make your fake girlfriend your real girlfriend.”

CHAPTER 20

FEE

I’m so nervous. My palms are damp and it’s everything I can do not to bounce my knee, which would be bad, since we’re painting pottery and jiggling will screw everything up.

Mac looks so good, and smells so nice, and is so nice. We’re friends. We’ve hung out plenty of times. I’ve been posing as his girlfriend for weeks. We’ve even kissed—OMG that kiss will live rent-free in the bedroom of my brain for all eternity. I hope we kiss again tonight. Maybe we’ll even make it past first base.

I shut down those thoughts, because it’s one step at a time. Mac likes me. Mac asked me on a date, and he took me somewhere he knew I would like.

“Wow, yours looks really good,” he notes.

We’re sitting across from each other. Our feet are touching under the table. I could perish just from the innocent contact.

“So does yours.” My voice pitches up.

He glances to the table to the right, where a mom and her six-year-old son are painting plates. The six-year-old’s art is on par with what Mac has produced. I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to be. Maybe abstract?

“Uh, thanks for trying to make me feel better, but that is a lie,” he says cheekily.

“We can go do something else if you want,” I offer.

“No. He—ck no. You are totally in your element, and the whole point is to do something fun together and just talk,” he replies.

“But are you in your element?” I dip a brush in dark brown paint and add a little shadow to the bottom of each pussy willow.