Page 176 of The Hookup Experiment


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"Like a real adult?" Julie's voice stays tenuous. "Like old-old."

"She's a lawyer, yeah. Wears a suit to work every day," I say.

"Really? A suit? What color?" Julie asks.

"All sorts," I say. "She loves a power suit."

"No beige?" Julie asks.

"Never beige. She's always been bold. She's a lot like Imogen, actually. Tough in an untouchable way. Expressing it to the world in a dark pink or teal green suit," I say.

"I can see Immy in a dark pink suit," she says. "And you're Irish, right?"

I nod.

"Does she look like you?" Julie asks.

"No. She's got red hair."

"Red with pink? That's bold. I like it. Does she rock forest green?"

"Her power color," I say.

"Not black, like Immy?" she asks.

"Don't knock black. It's classic," I say. "And she has plenty of fuchsia too."

"You really are good with colors. Imogen is hopeless. She doesn't know the difference between seafoam and turquoise," she says.

"Pathetic, yeah." The mood is lighter, but not enough. I need to push off the subject of my family and onto hers. Or, at least, onto something easy. "Your sister said I'm her first boyfriend in a while. Who was the last?"

"Oh my god, she hasn't talked to you about Zack?" She sheds half the heaviness. "The film major who loved the sound of his own voice."

Imogen watches her sister shift into playful mode, then turns her attention to fixing oatmeal and tea.

"Not a fan?" I ask.

"He was hot. Really hot," she says.

"Hey," I tease.

"Not hotter than you are. Just different," she says. "Smart hot. Not that he was intelligent. Honestly, I think, deep down, he was an idiot, and it was worse, because he thought he was smart. There's nothing worse than an idiot who thinks they're smart, you know?"

"I know the type," I say.

"Right. You work with artists too. They can be divas," she says.

"Are you an artist?" I ask.

She laughs. "No. I just like art class. I'd never try to make it a career. Too unstable."

"It can be," I say.

"I think it's good you are, though. Imogen needs that. Someone with a creative spirit."

"But not Zack?" I ask.

"Omg, no. He rocked tweed blazers all summer and only drank IPAs. He was such a blowhard. I don't think she even liked him. I don't think she even likedahemwith him."

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