AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a grin, I peel back the aluminum foil to reveal letters I penned myself with neon-pink icing. “Congrats, It’s a Girl!” is written on the brownie in messy iced handwriting.
Jade tosses half her body back in a wild laugh. She opens the door wide enough to let me in, then closes and locks it behind me, still laughing.
“Shit, that is hilarious, Ian. Thank you.”
I follow her to the kitchen, where she’s got an unopened Diet Coke sitting on the counter. I set the brownies down, and she hands me a fork.
“Not to be upper-class about it, but . . . no plate?” I ask.
“You’re lucky I’m not just digging in with my fingers,” she says and removes the foil from the brownies, sticking her fork right into the pan.
At first bite, she closes her eyes and makes a noise suspiciously similar to moaning.
Under any other circumstances, this wouldn’t even faze me. People make weirdly sexual noises all the time when they eat. But somewhere between all the hours Jade and I have spent running lines and being together at the bowling alley last week, something’s . . . happened.
At first, the something was just that I started to see Jade as a friend—a feat in itself considering our slightly rocky start. And then we spent hours every day volleying lines back and forth and hanging out, and I watched her drink a million Diet Cokes and throw herself around in fits of laughter, and I started looking forward to seeing her every day, wishing we could hang out for longer and longer each time.
And then she showed up at the bowling alley.
Immediately, something was different for me. She looked so cute in her jeans and bowling shoes, and when the opportunity to touch her presented itself, I jumped at the chance.
It wasn’t until I was describing it all to Seth the next day that I even realized what I was saying. And I didn’t even realize it—Seth did.
“Dude, you have a crush on her.”
I knew he was right as he said it.
So while normally, when Jade makes pleasure sounds at her food, I barely even notice it . . . tonight, I am noticing. And it’s . . . doing things to me. Mentally. Physically. And that’s just not great.
I redirect my thoughts to safer territory: gel colors.
Rosco 39, Skelton Exotic Sangria.
Rosco 318, Mayan Sun.
I try to picture the lights onstage, but all I conjure is an image of a scantily clad Jade on stage inCabaretwith those lights and colors on her. And that is NOT what I was going for.
Ugly colors, Ian.
R388, Gaslight Green.
R12, Straw.
R41, Salmon.
R397, Pale Grey.
R50, Mauve.
R34, Flesh Pink.
“Ian?”
I snap my head up in her direction.
“Did you hear what I said?” she asks.
“No, I’m sorry. I was lost in my own world there for a second. Sorry. What did you say?” My neck heats, and I know those splotches I always get when I’m nervous or embarrassed have shown up.
