Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
At one point, Jett glares at me and says, “You’re on Emory’s shit list.”
I feign ignorance, eyebrows rising high. “Who, me?”
Yeah, me, and I know it. I refuse to join Instagram, and she’s been hounding the hell out of me. I suppose I better make an effort or else I’m liable to hear it from Dominik Carlson.
I finish my beer and the waitress appears out of thin air. She’s been overly attentive to me, but I’ve not given her attention past asking for a refill, which I do once again.
“Anyone else?” I ask the table. Jim and Baden pass, but the others order another. We’ll all be taking Ubers home, or if we’re lucky, Clarke, Mollie, Emory, or Ella may come and pick us up.
That’s the last I heard, anyway.
Aaron elbows me from my left and I give him my attention. “So, about that favor,” he says, dipping his head closer.
“What’s up?” I ask, knowing it’s the beer causing my good nature to be at peak performance.
“I’m going to propose to Clarke,” he says in a low voice, and I blink in surprise.
“Congrats, man.” My smile is genuine because I know this is a big deal for him. But inside, I’m thinking, what a poor fool. Another one falls for the false promise of happily ever after.
“And I need your help.” Aaron looks at me expectantly.
My eyebrows draw inward. “What kind of help?”
“It’s our anniversary day after tomorrow, and—”
“Anniversary? You haven’t been dating a year yet.” I might not be overly involved, but I’ve picked up on shit by listening, and I know Aaron and Clarke started dating over the summer.
“Six-month anniversary,” he amends.
I nod in understanding. “First date.”
“No, first fuck.” Aaron blushes as if that was disrespectful, not to me, but maybe to Clarke. “I mean, first time we had sex. June 29.”
I’m not tracking very well. “Let me get this straight… you want to propose to Clarke on the six-month anniversary of when you first had sex?”
“Right,” he says with a nod. “I mean, I’d do our first date, but that didn’t work out with the game schedule. But day after tomorrow is cleared of any games, so I’m going with that date.”
“So romantic,” I drawl sarcastically.
He ignores me and moves in closer. “We were going to go out for an elegant dinner, and I was going to do something like put the ring in a glass of champagne and have someone playing a violin, but she said she doesn’t feel like going out. So I thought, how about something unique that she won’t ever see coming.”
“And you need me to do what?” I ask, apprehension growing. I envision him wanting me to wear a cupid outfit and deliver the ring to her, to which my answer is a resounding no.
“I want you to come over for a friendly game of Scrabble, and I’m going to arrange it so as we’re playing, Will you marry me will be spelled out on the board.”
That’s pretty damn unique, and it doesn’t involve a cupid costume. I smile at him. “Sure. Day after tomorrow, right?”
“Day after tomorrow,” he affirms and claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, dude. I owe you big time. I’ll have Clarke invite Veronica as we’ll need four to play for it to work, plus I know Veronica would love to see me pop the question. I’ll make sure I let Veronica in on the plan ahead of time. This is going to be epic.”
Fuck.
Veronica?
Really?
I had resolved that she would be somewhat in our lives by taking care of Janelle. Our phone conversation was stilted when I’d called to accept her offer. I didn’t apologize for my boorish behavior, and she didn’t apologize for the way she gave it back. But we came to an agreement for her to watch Janelle when I’m out of town, and Janelle can stay at her condo, which is closer to Janelle’s school.
Weirdly, I’m not nervous about this new situation. Even though Mrs. Blair was fully competent, diligent, and eagle-eyed, it never felt right. And I’m starting to realize it has nothing to do with her twenty years of age and experience over Veronica (and that’s a rough guess as to her age) but rather that Mrs. Blair never made a personal connection with my sister. It was nothing more than a job to that woman, and in hindsight, that must’ve been awful for Janelle. She had just come to live in a new home, away from our mother who has taken care of her—and I use that phrase taken care of loosely.
Janelle was thrust into a new environment with no real friends and a brother who wasn’t around half the time, then forced to stay with a stranger who wasn’t overly warm and fuzzy.
No matter what my negative vibes are regarding Veronica, which may or may not be warranted, Janelle has a true emotional connection with her.