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“What? I’m serious. He’s so handsome and younger than I thought he would be. What age did you say he is again?”
“He’s forty which is way too old for you to be crushing on, so knock it off bitch,” I scold playfully slapping her knee.
“Just teasing but there’s no denying that’s one fine looking man,” she laughs.
“If you say so.”
“Did you guys have a nice weekend together?” she asks turning her attention back to the road.
“We did but I’m starting to feel like a Disney movie threw up all over the house. There’s toys everywhere and the songs, god don’t even get me started on the songs.”
“Songs? Oh, like this one you mean?” she says hitting a button on the dashboard blasting out the song Let It Go from Disney’s Frozen just as we drive past a large group of people from our school.
Ducking down in the seat I yell at her to turn it off covering my ears.
The evil witch is in hysterics all the way up to the school parking lot.
“I can’t believe you just did that to me,” I scold.
“You need to lighten up sometimes and just let it go” she says singing out the last part.
“You’re evil,” I laugh.
“Speaking of letting it go how was the evil stepbrother after the whole Ketch thing. Did he go mad?
“Yep,” she says popping the p. “Saint was Saint. You know what he’s like, he’s a dick.”
“Hey, do you think can we could go somewhere after school today? There’s something I wanna talk to you about.” I ask.
“Sounds serious. Wouldn’t happen to be about the guy who took you home that night would it?” she responds with a knowing smirk. “His name wouldn’t happen to begin with a C either by any chance would it?”
I swallow hard. She knows.
“Can we talk about it later though, I’ve a meeting with Mr Vance about my art project and I’m going to be late.”
“Sure.” I say dumfounded.
“But can we do it at lunch instead? I’ve been asked to fill in on a vacant shift at work and have to head there straight from school.”
“Ah no way, really?”
“It’s no biggy and honestly it gets me away from that house so…” she shrugs.
“Fair enough. Might stop by later. They do make nice drinks there.”
“Liar.”
“What? They do.”
“You said and I quote, “the coffee here tastes like sour cats piss.”
“The coffee yes, the milkshakes… now they’re something else.”
“Only because I make them.”
Before I get to say anything else she tells me she’s gotta go and will see me then.
By the time lunch rolls around I’ve bit my nails down so much they bleed. I’m nervous nervous and scared of what she might say to my confession. What if she never wants to speak to me ever again? What even is there to tell? That we made out a few times? Is that worth losing her over? My conscience battles with itself. Except I didn’t just make out with him. I had sex with him and more than once and haven’t heard from him since. A pang of disappointment hits me that he hasn’t climbed in my window since our night in Ketch. Does he regret it? I honestly thought that he would at least have the decency to tell me to my face he doesn’t want me.
