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Are you fucking crazy? No! My parents are actually home. So is Chance. No one finds out, remember?
What she should have said was, no. No, I changed my mind. The whole thing was a joke to see how pathetic you really were. That was my revenge ploy. My whole angle. It’s off. It’s so off. I would never stoop so low to put your dirty mouth anywhere near mine- I don’t want a trip to the STD clinic anytime soon.
Her phone dinged a minute later.
Relax. I’m taking you out.
She rolled her eyes at herself because she found herself typing a message that wasn’t along the lines of, please fudge off for life.
Because that’s not at all suspicious.
This was your idea, remember? Trying to cop out already? I never took you for a coward.
Alix scowled at her phone. That was just Ross being Ross, trying to get under her skin. He was a dick at best. That’s all he knew in his life was his dick. She’d once overheard him telling Chance that he had a weird dream about his penis when he was around twelve. She’d been eight at the time and was definitely not supposed to overhear that conversation, but they’d been in the kitchen. She was going in to get a drink and heard them talking and stopped around the corner. Chance said that wasn’t weird. He sometimes dreamed about things with his penis too.
The funny and not ha-ha thing about all of that was that boys seemed to obsess about their penises when they were little, innocently, but then, around a decade later, the obsession came back, not innocently, and never left.
Of course, she took the bait. She couldn’t help herself.
I’m no coward. I haven’t changed my mind. You’re not getting off that easy. I expect a nice date before this goes down. Not something half-ass.
Less than a minute went by and her phone dinged.
I thought you said you wanted the authentic experience.
She grimaced. It was beyond her why she’d ever had a crush on Ross. He wasn’t even that nice at least not to anyone who wasn’t Chance or one of his other stupid friends. He was funny, or at least, witty bordering on smart ass. He was insanely good looking, so flipping gorgeous that it actually burned her eyes to look at him. He wasn’t a gentleman. He forgot his date’s names. His version of romance was probably rolling up to some fast food joint, even though he was rich, and the expectation that his date would pay with sexual favors later- ones that he benefited from. He could be charming when he wanted to be, like with his parents, or hers, but she’d rarely seen him act that way in front of anyone else.
Knowing that, it was even more maddening that she couldn’t erase him from her mind. He’d been in her life for as long as she could remember. She decided that was the heart of the problem. She’d had a crush on him for so long, for six years before she even asked him to go to prom with her. It wasn’t something she could just get over, no matter how hard she tried.
It was like trying to forget about wanting to taste a banana if you’d never tasted one. It would haunt you for life. Not bananas. That’s a bad analogy. Bread. Chocolate. Chicken. Not bananas.
Hello? I’m five minutes away. Tell your parents that you’re going for a walk or out with a friend and get your hind end down the block. In front of the Mathesons’. I’ll be there in five.
She texted back the hand giving the middle finger emoji.
He texted back with the poop emoji.
Alix threw her phone in her purse and peeled herself off the bed with a disgusted sigh. She looked like a wreck. No makeup. She had on a pair of faded jeans and a red tan top with the white outline of a cathead that said “Overly Normal Cat Lady” across the bottom, even though she didn’t own any cats. It belonged to Penny, but she’d given it to her since she didn’t wear it anymore. It was cropped, the kind of thing that showed off just the barest hint of her abs where her high waisted skinny jeans ended. Penny actually did have seven cats at home. Well, her parents did.
Alix stalked over to her dresser. It was child sized, like the rest of the furniture in the room. It was also outdated, but it had a big mirror. She stood in front of it, checking herself out, pretending like she wasn’t. She purposely didn’t put on any makeup. She ran her fingers through her long hair to brush out the snarls. Her huge hazel eyes started back at her.
For having dark hair, she had surprisingly fair skin. She always had to wear a butt ton of sunscreen to keep from burning. She blinked. Her eyes were fine. Her skin was flawless and creamy, and she’d managed not to burn since she’d been back. Her lips were alright sans lipstick or anything fussy. She’d washed her hair the night before, so it was both impossible to style and gleamingly glossy and soft looking. She flipped it over her shoulder, shook her head at herself, grabbed her brown leather messenger bag off the floor, and slipped into her red canvas high tops. She laced them quickly and made a fast exit out of her room.
