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“Hello! Only the most angstier TV show of all time! Rory Gilmore, the Yale graduate.”
“Never heard of it,” Ava and I say in unison.
“Kids these days,” Eric complains before eyeing me up and down. “You’re getting laid by a man.”
My eyes widen at his assumption. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My booty call radar is never off.”
“It’s true,” Aunt Adriana says, beside me. “It’s crazy how spot on he is. Like he’s a psychic of anything penis-related.”
“It’s one of my many talents,” Eric boasts, lifting his shoulders proudly.
“How about you leave my daughter alone?” Mom pushes on my shoulders, away from Eric. “Especially because Lex will hear you and chop your balls off.”
Eric places his hands on his hips. “Your husband, after twenty years, is yet to chop my balls off. I think they’re as safe as balls can get.”
Aunt Adriana shakes her head. “Okay, enough ball talk, please. I’m losing my appetite.”
“Oh, so you’re saying that Julian doesn’t like the occasional tea bagging?”
I let out an obnoxious laugh before choosing to leave this conversation. I love my aunt and uncle, but the last thing I need on my mind is their supposed sex life. Thank God Andy is nowhere around to have heard that.
The day is chaotic as it always is when everyone gets together. Yet, despite being surrounded by all my family, my talk with my dad weighs heavily on my mind.
The truth is—time is running out. According to my father, Will is destined for London.
And I’m destined for only one thing—heartbreak.
Twenty-Three
Amelia
“I need tampons.”
Ava barges into my room without a polite knock on my door, heading straight for my bathroom to raid my cabinet.
“A please would be welcomed,” I mutter under my breath.
Seconds later, Ava comes out empty-handed.
“You don’t have any?”
I shrug my shoulders, trying my best to focus on the laptop screen. The assignment is due in a few weeks, but I thought to get a head start given I’ve lost focus of late and need to get my head back into studying mode. It doesn’t help that my phone proves to be a distraction as does social media. I resort to turning my phone off entirely to focus on my paper.
> “Have you checked Mom’s bathroom?”
Curling her lip, Ava shakes her head with a look of disgust. “No, because the last time I tried, I stumbled on lubricant. It was strawberry-flavored. I mean, really, Mom and Dad are still having sex?”
I snort involuntarily, displaying a wide grin. “Really, Ava? Of course, they have sex. Don’t ever walk past their room between midnight to six in the morning. Once you’ve heard Mom moan, it’s permanently stuck in your head.”
“Gross,” Ava exclaims, wrinkling her nose while flinching. “You mean Dad can still get it up?”
“Ava!” My mouth slackens, disturbed by this conversation. “Can you not use the words ‘get it up’ and ‘Dad’ in the same sentence? Besides, he only just turned fifty-two. Mom’s still in her forties. Erectile problems usually strike in the seventies, I think.”
“Never say the word erectile to me ever again,” Ava declares, shuddering. “This doesn’t solve my tampon issue.”
“I’ll go to the drugstore to get you some. Happy?”
