AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I laugh at the expressions on Cressida and Emma’s faces as Beck walks into the kitchen. They both look too stunned to introduce themselves, so I do it for them. “This is Beck. Beck, this is Cressida and Emma.”
Beck smiles. “Nice to officially meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you both.”
Neither Emma nor Cressida say anything; they just gape at him.
“Don’t make it weird, guys,” I say, adding more peanut butter to the knife.
“Well, I’m going to, uh, do some laundry,” Cressida says.
Emma shrugs. “I should do some homework.”
I smirk at Beck once they’re both gone. “They’re big fans of yours.”
He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head a little.
I push the plate toward him. “Want some apple?”
Anne walks into the kitchen right as I’m starting to cook dinner. She looks behind me at the stairs. “Whe—uh, where’s Beck?” I can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, but she falls spectacularly short.
“In the shower. How was your study thing?”
Anne rolls her eyes. “You’re dating Adler Beck, and you want to know about my marketing class?”
She’s obviously talked to Emma or Cressida recently.
“He’s just a guy.”
She scoffs. “Fine. He’s just a guy. You’re in a relationship? Half the campus is going to enter a state of mourning.”
I shake my head. “Are you done?”
“I’m happy for you. I’m just shocked. Him being here is like…”
A long pause follows, during which I raise one eyebrow. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think of a good celebrity equivalent.”
I snort. “Where are Cressida and Emma?”
“Trying to fix the television before Twenty-Five to One is on.”
“Of course they are.”
“Don’t think I didn’t see you watching last week,” Anne replies.
“It was impossible to ignore. I didn’t think it was physically possible for someone to cry that much.” I open the fridge door to survey the contents.
“Are you making dinner?”
“Yeah,” I reply, pulling a package of chicken out of the fridge and turning on the oven.
“Can I help?”
“Sure, thanks. I haven’t started the salad, if you want to do that.”
Anne pulls greens and veggies out of the fridge. We talk about our next game on Tuesday as we prep dinner. Cressida and Emma return to the kitchen a few minutes later, still bickering about whatever is wrong with the television.
It feels like an ordinary Sunday night.
