AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I autopilot the conversation with expertise. Wow, is Julie really being scouted by Stanford and Harvard? The winters on the East Coast are harsh. And the bay area is still too cold for her.
It's wonderful I'm devoted to my studies—summer school and a double major—but have I thought about grad schools yet? Am I studying for the GRE? What about letters of recommendation?
Eventually, Julie shifts the conversations to the business, and Mom goes into great detail on a supplier issues. They sent the wrong kind of flour. Can you imagine? And the beans aren't up to snuff! (They run a ridiculously successful bakery and coffee chain).
After Mom finishes, she asks Dad about the movies he's been watching recently—he loves aging American action stars—and he goes off on that.
And, pretty soon, I'm washing dishes while Julie dries, returning to the moment one scrub at a time.
"Are you okay?" She rubs an already dry plate with the blue-and-white checkered towel in her hand.
"Busy," I say.
"You don't have to BS me," she says. "I'm not stupid."
"Are you sure? All that softball might be melting your brain."
She laughs. "In your dreams."
"And it must be hard, being the beautiful one."
She hip-checks me. "You tell me."
"I'm okay," I say.
"Sure, Immy. That's why you're spending the entire summer at UCLA. 'Cause you don't want to avoid being here."
"Maybe I'm devoted to my studies. Like Mom said."
"Yeah, you're a nerd, for sure," she says. "But we both know it's more than that."
It is. But I can't tell her. Mom and I agree here, terrifyingly enough.
"You're weird with Mom now."
"We always fight."
"No, it's different. Cold."
"It's nothing you need to worry about," I say.
"Very reassuring."
"I promise."
"If it's no big deal, tell me," she says.
"I love you." I finish the last dish and give her a hug. "But I have a hot date tonight."
"Really?" Her dark eyes light up. She looks a lot like me, only more compact. A little shorter, a little curvier, a little more muscular. "You're seeing someone?"
"It's more of a fling," I say.
She squeals. "Is he cute? Do you have a picture?"
"I don't want to announce it."
"They know you date."
