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“So this right here”—he shook the paper bag at me, and it jingled—“is a shitload of quarters . . . for a shitload of touching.”
I shook my head, both impressed with his resourcefulness and half shocked with his gal. “Nice.”
“She’ll love it, right?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Jack looked at himself in the mirror one last time before turning to me. “How do I look?”
“Hot,” I said in a high-pitched voice, trying to hold a serious expression.
“You’re no help. Keep your phone on in case something happens and I need you,” he said as he stepped into the hallway.
“First of all, why would I turn it off? And second, why the hell would you possibly need me?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea, just tell me okay.”
“Okay,” I said, hoping to calm his jitters. “Have fun. And use your manners,” I told him with a laugh, and he flipped me off. “That’s not them!”
Once Jack left, I pulled out my phone to text Melissa. I figured since both of us would be alone tonight, we could be alone together.
Dean: Want to study tonight?
Melissa: On one condition.
Dean: ?
Melissa: You bring me a cherry Slurpee from 7-Eleven.
Dean: Seriously?
Melissa: Do I sound like I’m kidding?
Dean: Why cherry?
Melissa: Because I’m craving it and you’re on your way here and it’s on your way and pleeease? I’ll make you brownies.
Dean: Deal.
Melissa: Sucker.
I smiled at her last text as another one followed with her address.
Pumped up, I headed for the living room to ask if I could borrow the Honda. Gramps was there as usual in his favorite chair, watching TV.
When I asked, he said, “Of course. Where are you going?”
“Remember that girl I pointed out to you at the game the other day?”
“Isn’t that who Jack is out with tonight?” His eyes narrowed as he peered at me over his glasses.
“Not the blonde, the other one. They’re roommates,” I explained.
He scratched his chin before nodding. “Okay.”
“We have a class together, and we’re going to study.”
“Study, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?” He huffed out a laugh.
