Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I can’t be the reason Donnelly’s whole life implodes, and though I’m not sure the extent of my dad’s dislike of Donnelly and whether it’s a petty thing, a protective thing, or something more personal, I’m almost positive he’d go ballistic if he found out about our hookup.
Donnelly adds another layer to the pepperoni rose.
“Nice pie,” I tell him.
“Thanks.” He tilts his head to peer at my blank dough. His only piercing today is the silver safety pin in the cartilage of his ear. “What toppings you want?”
“Cheese.”
He passes the bowl of mozzarella to me.
“Mushrooms and spinach.”
He leans over the table and snatches those bowls for me too. He bows a little. “I’m at your pie’s service.”
I smile, fighting hard not to blush. He always makes me feel like I’m living on the right planet instead of the wrong one. “My pie thanks you.” After spreading the sauce, I sprinkle the cheese, and I start to construct what I want to say in my head.
So…Donnelly, there’s a triple date thing inspired by your triple date with Moffy, Farrow, Jack, and Oscar and…
No, that’s so rambly.
Donnelly, will you be my date on a triple date? But a friend date. Not a date-date.
Better.
I think I like that one.
I open my mouth.
“Have you found someone yet for next Friday?” Farrow is speaking to Donnelly.
“Is this the triple date?” Jane asks curiously. Excitement twinkles her eyes.
“Yale boys’ triple date,” Thatcher amends.
“Can’t be the one I’m going on,” Donnelly says. “I never went to Yale.”
“Eh, you basically did,” Farrow notes. “You just weren’t enrolled.”
Donnelly smirks. “You adding me into your clique or what?”
Farrow makes a face. “No because I’m not in a clique.”
“Horseshit,” Thatcher chimes in.
Farrow pops a bubblegum bubble. “Okay, roll it back, fuckers.” He motions his finger in a circle, and my brother is staring very fondly at Farrow’s tattooed hand. “I was asking if Donnelly found someone to bring.”
Moffy gestures to Donnelly. “If you still need to find a girl, I can set you up on a blind date.”
That tosses my stomach, and I focus super hard on my pizza. I place the mushrooms like eyes.
“Nah,” Donnelly says. “I found someone.”
Farrow’s brows jump in surprise. “You did?”
My gaze cements on the pizza. Don’t look at him. Don’t think it. But my stupid brain is already forming the words in my head.
It wasn’t me.
Of course it wasn’t me. I know he doesn’t like me like that, and he’d probably want to take a date that he could sleep with afterwards. It’s a reasonable thing. He wasn’t looking to take a friend. Maybe I shouldn’t either.
“Yeah, it’s all set,” Donnelly says. “I’ll be there. Pocket the worry. Use it for someone else.” He’s speaking to Moffy and Farrow. “You’re gonna get wrinkles.”
“I’m not worried,” Farrow says easily, and maybe he’s not concerned about something trivial like a triple date. Even if it’s stressing me out.
Donnelly nods nonchalantly, and Farrow nods back like they’re good, and my heart is lurching.
I take a breath, trying to unknot my stomach. “We’re doing a triple date, too,” I blurt out, mostly to my brother as he places chopped pineapple on Ripley’s tray. “Eliot, Tom, and me. We thought it was a cool idea.”
Moffy frowns hard. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone. I didn’t know Eliot and Tom were either…” His confusion actually is causing wrinkles.
“We’re setting Tom up,” I explain. “It’s a surprise thing. I don’t know who Eliot is taking yet.” I avoid talking about me.
“And you?” Donnelly asks, his eyes slipping over me like he’s attempting to X-ray vision me.
Avoiding failed.
“Me? Uhh…” I internally panic and bring my hood over my head. “I’m finding someone tomorrow for the date.”
“Tomorrow?” Thatcher asks, sharing a short glance with Jane.
Why did I bring this up? Can I go back to being the roommate who keeps shit to herself? Yeah, I like that role. I tug one hoodie string, then the other, contemplating pulling so tightly that I’m hidden within the hood.
Moffy jumps in for me. “Philly Comic-Con is tomorrow.” He turns to me. “You’re finding a date there?”
“Yep, yeah,” I say, cementing this plan in point five seconds. It’s kinda chaotic. Maybe that’s why my best friends are Eliot and Tom.
“Akara is going to love that.” I hear Thatcher say under his breath. I don’t get into security stuff, and it’s likely this plan might add a layer of difficulty to Frog’s job. More NDAs. But I also know her pretty well and can confidently say she’ll love the randomness of it.
Donnelly rests an elbow on the table, his fingers rubbing at his jaw like he’s in thought, and after seconds pass, I wonder if he’ll ask me something.
Like, you really want to find a random guy at Comic-Con?
His gaze falls to my pizza. I finished placing the spinach-mouth on my pizza man. He nods slowly. “Sad pizza for a sad alien.”