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“The cats. Right. You have a couple, don’t you?” Is that three questions or just two? How long does a date have to last to count as a date?
“Seven.”
I cough, then I sputter—though I haven’t anything in my throat.Seven? Did she say seven?
“Mmm-hmm. There’s Tulip and Monkey and Benny Boo and–” She ticks off each on her fingers.
I’m choking on each cat’s name, when the waiter greets us. “I’m Jamal. I—” Jamal looks at me, and I can’t really blame him, I’m still hacking. “Honey, do you need a drink?” He sets one hand on his hip, examining me but not moving.
I nod and cough while Ang decides this is the perfect time to caress my back.
Another server passes our table and Jamal nabs a glass of water from the tray she carries. “Here, sugar. Drink up.”
I do, but the coughing doesn’t stop.
There are two Jamal’s through my blurred vision, but he’s waving his hand in the air. “No cuddling,girl. You’ve got to swat him.Swat!”
I feel a tap on my back as Ang pats me over and over again. My eyes sting, and my throat clenches. That’s when I realize: sure, I’m coughing, but I’m also one hundred percent allergic to my date. She just had me pet her sweater, which I’m now certain is covered in cat hair. And she’s still touching me.
I’m dying—can that be my one personal fact?
Shared.
My homework is done.
15
Annie
“W
hy is he sitting so close to her?” I adjust the binoculars on my face. “Why is she touching him? Do you see her touching him?”
Kayla sips from her fast food cup. Her cola must be out because there’s nothing but slurpy sounds coming from her straw. She shakes the cup—nothing but ice. “You said we were going to have fun.”
“I said we were going to have fun staking out Owen’s date. Thisisfun. You’re having fun!”
“Am I? Because—”
“Kayla, will you just look at him? Look. She’stouchinghim. Isn’t that odd? I mean, he just got here. Theyjustmet.”
“You need to be careful, Annie.” She wrinkles her nose and tries to pull more liquid from her straw—without luck. “You sound a little…jealous.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous. I’m protective. It’s Owen.
“Here.” She waggles her fingers my way. “Let me see.” My sister adjusts the binoculars to her eyes. She watches Owen, and I watch her. “Oh! Holy marbles! He’s kissing her. He’s got his arms around her back and his tongue is down her throat!”
“Owen!” I wail—or maybe it’s a shriek. Either way, it’s instinct. It howls from my mouth without permission. I snatch the binoculars back from Kayla. But I’m clumsy and nervous, and they somehow become a hot potato in my hands. “He didn’t! He wouldn’t!” I’m yelling and fumbling, all while trying to get these stupid binoculars to face the right direction.
Kayla snorts.
The binoculars fall into my lap, and I huff out a tired breath. My heart thunders as if I just ran a mile. My fingers clasp tight around the steering wheel, and I breathe, telling my heart to simmer. “Why did I bring you along?”
Kayla snorts again, laughing so hard I’m pretty sure she isn’t breathing. Tears stream down her cheeks—each one laughing at my expense. “You didn’t want to be alone. I only came because you promised me some fun, and this mom really needed a night away from home. It’s game night—do you know how rowdy our children get during game night? I had to tell Tim you were having a mental breakdown for him to agree to let me miss it.”
“A mental—” I scoff. “Well, you look like you’re having all kinds of fun,” I say, letting bitterness drip from my tone.
“I am now.”
