Broken and Screwed Page 51
Eric placed the two bottles on the glass table in front of us and stood back up. “Yeah, two little dorks and I have two more brothers. Isaiah is two years younger than me and Noah is four. I think he was an ‘oops,’ but he’s so darn cute. No one can resist him. He’s going to get the ladies when he’s older.”
I shot forward when he reached for the door again. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to mix us a few drinks. These things were a joke, but feel free to open one up if you’d like. Be right back.”
When he came back, he slid a glass towards me and I took it for a sniff. I couldn’t get a whiff of any liquor so I took a sip of it. It was mostly soda, but he had put a small amount of alcohol in there. “Thanks.”
And I felt grateful to him for another reason, a deeper reason, but one that I couldn’t explain. The ball of tension that was always in my stomach unraveled a little bit. It loosened up, and as it did, the rest of me started to relax more and more. Before I took another sip, I knew I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else at that moment. This was just fine with me.
He tried to look casual, but I saw the delight on his face. He lounged back, kicked up his feet on the table, and threw an arm on the back of my chair. He raised his glass to me in a salute. “Here’s to us being friends again.”
“I’ll cheer to that.”
As our glasses clinked and our gazes locked, a tingle went through me. It’d been a long time since I had felt one of those, since my Thanksgiving break.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Are you and Eric going to prom together?” Angie flopped on her bed and lifted the remote control to silence her television.
I had come over for their Thursday Family Night dinner. Karen made enough to feed sixty people and Angie made me come over every Thursday night since Thanksgiving. Their home had become a second home to me, and in some ways, as I recalled the emptiness at my house, I preferred their home to mine.
I plopped on the small couch she kept in the corner and pulled a blanket over my lap. I shrugged. “I think so, but I’m not sure.”
She sat up straight, giving me a meaningful look. “Are you serious? You two have been attached at the hip since last Friday. Everyone’s saying you two are dating. I know you’re not, not yet, but really, Alex. Call him right now and ask him.”
“No,” I squealed. Then I started laughing at that. I couldn’t believe I had squealed. “Oh, my gosh. I haven’t done that in forever.”
Angie smirked. “About damn time too.”
I giggled into the blanket and fell over. More laughter came from me. Oh god. It felt good to laugh.
“Come on, you nut.” But Angie couldn’t hold back a grin. “Call him.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“No.” I shook my head. I was stubborn.
She groaned and fell back on her bed. “You drive me crazy. Can I call him, at least?”
“No.”
At her glare, my shoulders shook some more in silent laughter. But then I changed the topic. I wasn’t ready to deal with the possibility if Eric was taking me to prom or not. It felt surreal to me, for some reason. What she said had been true. We had spent time together every day since Friday night, and that night we sat up and talked until morning. At six, we went to the diner with a few others for breakfast and he took me for coffee when everyone went to their own homes. When I had gone home, there was a text from him after I woke up. He wanted to take me to dinner and we went to the movies afterwards. Every day was something new. Sunday had been a walk in the park. He picked me up for school on Monday and drove me home after his baseball practice. I cooked dinner Tuesday night for him. Wednesday night had been movies at my place. It was Thursday now and I was excited for the taco place he promised was the best in town. I had never heard of it, but I wasn’t the best source for anything.
As a dramatic sigh left her, Karen hollered for us to come down for dinner.
Angie muttered as we went downstairs, “I can’t believe you’re not staying. You always have dinner with us these nights.”
“I know.” I hopped off the bottom step and grabbed my purse by the doorway. I poked my head in the kitchen. “I’m off, Karen. I’ll see you next week!”
“What? You’re not staying?”
Angie’s mom was tall and willowy like her daughter. She had the same blonde hair, almost white, that ended in the middle of her back. While Angie’s eyes were a smoky blue color, her mother’s was a bright sea blue. She was golden tan and the wrinkles around her eyes were the only indication of her older age. Then she gave me a radiant and loving smile.
“I already told you, Mom. She’s got a date. She stopped by to say hello because she feels guilty if she doesn’t come over now.”
“Oh, come now.” Angie’s mom waved at me and winked. “I’ll package some food up and you can take it with you on your date. I’m sure whoever he is will be hungry too.”
“They’re going out for food, Mom.”
“Oh, well—” But her words were cut off short as Angie’s little brothers and little sister raced into the kitchen at the same time. Soon chaos ensued. Plates were dropped on the floor, spoons were flung across the room, and someone started crying. Angie collapsed on one of the chairs and lifted pleading eyes to me. “Can I come with?”
I gave her a farewell wave and left before Karen had time to bag up any food for me. I still had the leftovers from last week in the refrigerator. But when I got to my car, Angie yelled at me from the door. She had a bag in hand and was rolling her eyes as she hurried towards me. “My mom made me do this. Sorry. Have fun on your date. Ask him to prom.” Then she turned and darted back inside.
I groaned. It wasn’t that easy. A person didn’t open their mouth and ask someone to prom, even if you had been spending every day together for a week. A week. That wasn’t very long. Not at all. Oh, who was I kidding? I was terrified when it came to my love life. No, I was petrified. That was more accurate, but when Eric picked me up, there was a whole host of butterflies in my stomach and I didn’t think that was a bad thing.
“Hey.” He smiled warmly at me.
“Was I supposed to dress up?” His crisp buttoned-down blue shirt was tucked inside black jeans that looked more like dress pants. Glancing at my shirt and jeans, I felt dowdy.