Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“I do love the idea of getting back at him, on the other hand, it makes me nervous. What if he gets pissed?”
That made Drew scoff into the phone. “Drake doesn’t get pissed. He gets quiet. That’s how you know he’s mad. He doesn’t talk.”
I laughed. “That’s worse.”
“The good news is you’re not in a relationship with him, and it’s not like you’re friends. So it won’t matter how he feels about it.”
Not in a relationship.
Not friends.
His words hurt a little, but the real Drew knew nothing about the rapport Drake and I had formed nor had he known we were on speaking terms to begin with—so who was he to say?
“Right.” I shook my head though he couldn’t see it, pacing around my small bedroom like a caged cat at the zoo, and if I had a land-line telephone I’d be twirling the cord the way I’d seen girls do in movies.
“Anyway, I was kind of thinkin’ about how to judge whether or not he feels bad about any of this, and I could pretend to really be into you to see what he does.”
I force out a chuckle. “So you'd be pretending too?”
“Yeah, but obviously, it wouldn't be the same thing. You would know about it, and he wouldn't.”
“Different but the same,” I say. “Don't get me wrong, I'm all for it. I just want you to know that it's basically the same thing in a roundabout way.”
“This time, no one's getting hurt.”
I am.
I would be.
Maybe.
I mean—there’s a chance.
“So did you just want to walk around the house pretending that we were going out, or did you actually want me to come over to see his reaction?”
“It might be really fun if you actually came over, and then we could leave and go for ice cream or something. Let him marinate in his own misery.”
That perks me up. “You think he’d be miserable?”
“Guess we won’t know until we know.” I hear Drew moving around his bedroom; it sounds like he’s plopping down on the bed.
“So. You want me to come over?”
I hear a thump. “Yeah. Tomorrow?”
Uh-huh. “I can do tomorrow.”
“It’s a date.”
twenty-two
drake
You call it a one night stand. I call it “catch and release.”
I haven’t heard from Daisy in twenty-four hours.
Not that I’ve tried texting her; I don’t want to look needy or desperate or like…
I miss her.
Daisy: You’re sitting here ignoring me.
Drew: Are you in class? I don’t see you.
I sit staring at our messages from last night, running a hand down my face. So cringe.
I don’t even want to know what happened in that lecture hall, or what was said between my brother and Daisy.
You should be glad they finally met. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?
Yes.
No.
How the fuck am I supposed to know what I want anymore? First, it was one thing, and now it’s another thing entirely. I have no idea what end is up.
Don’t think about it anymore. What’s done is done, and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.
Still, Drew hadn’t said a word about it when he walked in the door, and I would have known because I was sitting right there in the living room waiting to pounce.
Instead, he’d walked in and set his bag down in the same spot where he set his bag every Wednesday night. Gave me the same look he gives me, walked past to the kitchen for a snack.
Same as always.
It was weird.
Maybe she wasn’t actually in class?
Of course she was in class, halfwit—she messaged to find out why you were ignoring her. Don’t kid yourself.
Drew was there.
Daisy was there.
My stomach churns.
Shoot her a message, man. She’s probably wondering why you’ve been so quiet.
I plop down onto a chair in the kitchen, legs spread, popping open the top of the Tupperware container I'd put there earlier after warming it in the microwave. It's penne pasta with chicken mixed in, and I dumped in some marinara sauce on top of that, too. I was too lazy to cook, as usual, so I'm eating leftovers when my brother walks in through the front door.
Both my hand and fork halt halfway to my open mouth at the sight of Daisy behind him.
Daisy?
Abruptly, I almost stand but remember I’m not supposed to know her intimately, easing myself back into the chair.
They're holding hands.
I do a double take.
Yup—still holding hands, walking through the house into the kitchen, happy as you please.
“Hey, bro.” Drew is grinning ear to ear, pulling Daisy into the light and presenting her like a prize at the county fair. “Drake, I want you to meet Daisy.”
“Hey.” I don’t know whether to nod or grunt or snarl. “We’ve met.”
Daisy lets go of my brother’s hand to shake mine. “Not actually, just online.”
She giggles, clarifying.
Giggles?
It’s a sound I’ve never heard her make—flirty and bubbly and not at all the way she was acting with me. Not that she wasn’t being cute on our date, this is just…different.