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“I guess.”
“You aren’t even honest with yourself.”
“Hey,” I moan, glancing down at the arrow on my wrist. “What does that mean?”
“That means if you think you’re going to be okay setting Owen up with other women, you’ve deceived yourself. The crash and burn of your reality is going to be harsh, Annie.”
I roll my eyes. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’d be happy to see Owen with someone who deserves him.
“You know,” I say, skimming over the subject of Owen, “I thought you were going to lick Steve’s fingers for a minute.”
“I almost did,” she says with a shrug. “I’m a mother, Annie. My superpower is not being afraid of anything and knowing what’s happening before I’ve been told. In a sense, we do have eyes in the back of our heads.”
I smirk and fold my arms over my chest.
“For instance, I’ve seen you and Owen clearly for years. That’s more than you can say.”
10
Annie
“I
’m writing all about it. You’re okay with that, right?” I jot down a few notes in my Owen binder. “I mean, that’s the point of all this. Well, one of the points.” Because the other point—other than proving to myself that I do give my readers valuable advice—is to find Owen love.
“Um. Sure. Yeah.”
“When is your lunch break over?” I ask, closing up the binder and looking at the wall clock above my desk. Before Owen can answer, I add, “Margo loved the idea when I pitched it to her. She wants me to do a podcast episode about each of your dates too. And maybe I’ll talk about the experiement on Sid’s YouTube channel.”
“Wow. Um. That’s—”
“Great, right?”
“A lot. It’s a lot. And it’s great.” Owen sounds tired–the effects of his concussed head.
“If all goes well, you’ll be getting ready for a date two weeks from this time!”
“Or,” he says, “I’ll be getting ready for period six. Seventh-grade science.”
“Right, I meant after school. I have to go, too. But I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
I have one million things to do to get this new Ask Annie section up and running. If I wrote out a list, I am certain there would be one million items on it. In fact, I need to write a list—so make that one million and one.
And yet… I cannot get Kayla’s words out of my brain.Jealous?
Why would helping Owen make me jealous?
Because of a tenth-grade crush? No way. That’s over and done. I love Owen enough to do anything for him—and this experiment will be helping me right back.
My lip stings before I realize that I’ve bitten it—hard. I don’t want to be selfish when it comes to Owen. But if something helps meandhim, that isn’t selfish, is it? It’s what they call a win-win.
Before I left the other night, Kayla asked why I just didn’t make myself the experimental group.
Me? Why not me?
Well… because I need to be on the outside looking in. To be objective. To see things for what they are.
At least, that’s what I told her.
