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***
My family is cool.
A bit too cool maybe.
I mean, when you tell your mom that you’re dating two guys, together, as in all three of you together—at least I hope we’re dating—she shouldn’t squeal and demand to see photos, right?
“When are they coming over for dinner?”
“Mom, you don’t cook,” I remind her gently.
Hasn’t, in fact, since she almost burned the kitchen down while boiling an egg when I was four. I remember that day.
“We can order out. Don’t be narrow-minded, Candace.”
“Oh, come on.” Would a narrow-minded girl date two guys simultaneously?
“Is the sex good? It must be amazing, right?” I can practically see her clapping her hands and jumping on the bed. “You have to tell me all about it!”
Um, no? As in, no frigging way am I talking about this with my mom. Gross!
“Mom, I gotta go.”
“But, the photos!”
I hang up quickly, before she starts telling me about her and dad’s sex life again. A girl can only take so much in one day.
***
Monday comes around without any calls or text messages. Which is cool. Totally fine. Absolutely expected.
I’m two seconds away from throwing my phone under a moving car. Make that a bus. Or a truck.
I wanted them to contact me. To tell me what happened on Saturday night wasn’t a mistake, a drunken fumbling. To tell me what it was to them.
Crap, I read too much into it. That’s it. There was no way I wouldn’t—while for them it was obviously nothing to write home about. Just another girl crushing on them. Just some kissing on the couch after dinner.
And now I have to face Jethro at the shop and pretend it meant nothing to me, too. I guess I should be thanking Brylee for dragging me away from the boys before anything more happened. I’m an addict. I accept that, and I should steer clear of my addiction.
Time for a job change. Donna will understand my reasons. Besides, this stint at the bookshop wasn’t meant to last forever. Once my classes begin again, I won’t have that much time. I may find a job at the college library or at the local Starbucks.
So I unlock the shop and set about preparing it for the first customers of the day, telling myself not to expect anything and not let disappointment assault me.
Well, I certainly don’t expect Joel to arrive five minutes later with coffee for me and Donna and Jethro, like nothing has changed.
But that’s good, right? At least nothing changed for the worse. There is no awkwardness in Joel’s gaze or his smile as he passes me the cup with my name on it.
“Everything okay?” he asks as I take a sip for something to do.
“Oh yeah. Perfect.”
“I mean, with your roommate. You ran away so fast on Saturday night I was worried.”
He was? Aww. “She’s fine. Just delusional.” I pause. “I mean, not really.” Then I think about what she told me. “Scratch that, she so is. A total psychopath.”
Joel is staring at me, brows lifted.
“Don’t mind me. Thank God you brought coffee.” I smile and remember just in time to rein in my shark smile and cover my teeth.
