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“Because I’m just not,” I tell her.
“So, you’re being a butt,” she concludes. “Got it. Come on,” she hooks her arm through mine. “Let's take you home so you can shower before your shift.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she returns. “But if you ever change your mind and decide you might sorta kinda be okay with making newfriends”––she lifts her hands and does air quotes around the word––“I think you and Mack would make a cute couple.”
“Oh, so now we’re a potential couple, Blake?” I say dryly. “You’re delusional.”
“Optimistic,” she clarifies. “There’s a difference.”
I shove the locker room door open and exhale loudly.
Sure, there is.
3
KATE
“Hey, Mom.” I pin my phone between my shoulder and ear as I put the mascara back into my makeup bag.
“Hey, baby! How are you?”
“I’m good. Getting ready for my shift.”
“Great!” my dad chirps. They must have me on speaker. I’m not surprised. It’s kind of par for the course with these two.
“Yeah. How are things with you guys?” I ask.
“We’re doing great. Thought we might stop by Butter and Grace and say hi.”
I shove my makeup bag into the bathroom drawer and flick the light off. “Oh, you don’t have to––”
“I know,” Mom interrupts. “But we miss you. Are you still coming home this weekend?”
With a grimace, I head back to my room and slip on some shoes, searching for an excuse not involving the truth or the fact Ican’tcome home until my driver’s license isn’t suspended.
“Honey?” Mom prods.
“I have a big exam coming up in Palmer’s class, so…”
“You can always study at home,” Dad offers. “We’ll give you privacy and will only interrupt to drop off caffeine and chocolate.”
I laugh. “While that sounds like a treat, I’ll have to pass this time. Thank you, though.”
“We miss you, baby,” my mom repeats.
“I know. And I miss you guys too,” I tell them.
And I honestly do. I love my parents even when they’re overbearing, leaving me feeling like they're smothering me at times. They’re still super sweet and super caring and super hands-on and also super good at making me feel like a child. I sigh and add, “How ‘bout we talk about this later? Ash is giving me a ride to work, so I gotta go.”
“Why is she giving you a ride?” Mom asks. I swear the woman’s a damn detective. “Are you sure everything’s okay? Is your car giving you trouble?”
My shoulders hunch, and I rest my forehead against my bathroom doorjamb.
Crap.
“Uh…no,” I answer. “Everything’s great. I, uh, thought I’d save some gas.”
