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I am carefully composing some excellent insults when my phone rings with my BFF Tasha’s ring tone.
I hit FaceTime and answer.
“Hey girl.” Tasha beams a huge grin at me. “You’re looking good.” So was she, with her freckle-splattered nose and light sunburn. Tasha is a pro surfer. She even dragged me out on the water a few times. It did not end well. Dancing is way more my thing.
Her face squinches up in confusion. “Is that ‘Macarena’ playing?”
I nod vigorously. “Yes, it is. And I’m trapped in a town car sitting next to a dead man. Say goodbye to Mason Raker, world’s worst DJ, before I push him out the door.” I angled the phone so Tasha could see him.
His eyes spark with mischief as he grabs the phone from me. I let out a squawk of protest.
“Hey, are you Tasha? Rowan can’t stop talking about you. How’s California? She really misses you.” For a moment I wondered how he knew where he was, then realized that he’d seen her phone number in the upper right corner, and also the sunny skies and palm trees behind her.
“No way. Really?” Tasha sounded delighted.
“Oh, absolutely. Haven’t I seen you inSurfergrrl Monthly?”
“You totally have.” She laughs.
“You really can shred a wave. Is that how you say it?” He’s trying for cute and disarming, and somehow he totally pulls it off.
“It is. It totally is.” She’s giggling girlishly.
Oh. My. God.
“He’s evil.” I yell, trying to grab the phone. Mason twists away from me and hunches over the phone protectively. I claw uselessly at his arm. Of course, he ignores it. He’s a hockey player; he’s used to taking pucks to the head and getting railed on with wooden sticks. He can handle a little pain.
“We should all get together next time you’re in town.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun. Wine bar?”
“You know it.”
I make stabbing motions at Mason’s neck. Mason’s grin stretches even wider.
“Macarena” finishes, and starts again.
Kill me now.
“You really like that song.” Tasha laughs.
Mason nods. “Yeah, it’s kind of our little thing that we have together.”
“Wow, you have a thing?” she squeals delightedly. “Oh my God, and you told me that New York was like a total man desert. Congratulations.”
I groan. Now Tasha will think that Mason and I had a real thing, and it would take hours to talk her down.
Also, Mason does not need to hear about my lack of a dating life.
“We sure do,” Mason agrees. “By the way, what’s that food she hates again? I’m making her dinner tomorrow and I want to make sure that I don’t accidentally cook it.”
“Oh, you mean shredded coconut.” She nods. “She hates that so much. Wow, you’re hot and you’re cooking her dinner. Rowan, grab hold of this guy and don’t let go.”
“Oh, don’t you worry.” I trill. Out of sight of the phone, I make strangling motions with my hands. Then, with a quick lunge, I grab the phone back from Mason, and chat with Tasha for a couple of minutes, updating her on my new gym and how Ruby is doing at Columbia, before I say, “Got to go. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too.” Mason yells. “Miss you.”
I hang up quickly.
