“No. This can’t happen. He cannot come to my house.”
“Why? Oh crap, do you live in a shelter or something? You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Linc won’t mind. He’s not the type to judge you. Besides, it’s not like he lives in a mansion,” she says and that’s definitely something we can agree on.
“He can’t come to my house because I don’t want him to meet my parents,” I mutter.
“Why not? Linc’s a great guy—”
“My dad wouldn’t think so,” I literally moan.
“Why not?”
“Because he isn’t a doctor or a lawyer. They might be willing to overlook that if he was an accountant, or had some other respectable nine to five, wear a suit, kind of job.”
“Oh yikes. I mean, that’s kind of harsh, Jodie.”
“I know. I didn’t say I felt like that, but my parents are very straight forward and set in their ways. Everything is pretty much black and white to them, there’s no gray, and Lincoln Locke definitely falls in the gray area.”
“I don’t know, I think of Linc more like a manly fuchsia,” she says thoughtfully.
“Fuchsia can be manly?” I stop and ask.
“Of course. The point is Linc is all color. The world is bright when you’re near him.”
I sigh. “Yeah, except it’s more like aqua. He’s definitely a water color,” I mumble.
“Oh! You mean because he surfs? Yeah, I can see that.”
“More like because he lives wild and free. I kind of envy that.”
“You should,” she says. For the first time, Bella sounds kind of sad. I look up at her and frown.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re like what, thirty? Still living at home and concerned about what your parents are thinking? That’s not good Jo-Jo.”
“I’m not thirty!” I snap, and I’d tell her to quit calling me Jo-Jo but it wouldn’t do any good.
“I figured, but I mean, I wasn’t sure you’d be sensitive or not. I hear some women take it hard when they turn thirty-five,” she says, patting my shoulder.
“I’m not thirty-five either!”
“Older? Well, in that case you totally wear it—”
“For Christ’s sake! I’m only twenty-six!”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes really!”
“Cool. Then, that’s much better. Because if you were staring forty in the eye and still living at home, that’s totally sad. I mean it’s not time to buy cats, but—”
“Can we stop talking about this?” I mutter, realizing that probably living at home at my age isn’t ideal either, even if it is an apartment above the garage. Still, she may have a point. Why do I care what my parents think when it comes to me dating? Or having sex? I mean, I may not want them to know, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of… right?
Oh God, am I as pitiful as Bella made me sound? Am I on the road to being the crazy cat lady? A call comes in and I signal to Bella to take it.
Me? I sit here feeling sorry for myself and wondering what I’m going to do about tonight…
14
Linc
“Do not come to my house! The last thing I need is for my parents to see you. Stay away. I told you we’re too different. And I loved the strawberries from Bela’s, but I’m sending back everything you send me from now on. Stop harassing me!”
I play Jodie’s message one more time and I can’t help but feel even more disgusted. I’ve played it ten times since I got it an hour ago and each time it’s like a kick in the gut.
She’s worried about her parents seeing me. Christ, I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I never thought I’d be Jodie’s dirty little secret. I look around my apartment, which I’ve cleaned. I even bought a real bed and one of those portable dividers to section off a bedroom in the corner. Why did I think that would impress her? How in the hell did I think I could impress her? She was slumming it when she got with me. Everything I’ve learned about Jodie in town tells me her parents are money; she’s always had it and lives a color-in-the-lines kind of life. I want her. She’s under my damn skin, but I couldn’t live like that.
I wouldn’t even want to.
I call Jodie’s number back, but I get voicemail.
“It’s Linc. Got your message loud and clear. Don’t worry. I’m done.”
Then, I click off my phone and toss it across the room. It slams against the wall and I don’t know if it breaks…I don’t really give a fuck.
I go to the fridge and pull out a beer, yanking my shirt off as I go. I’m apparently not taking Jodie out to the Fireside tonight. I’ll order a pizza. Well, if my phone works I’ll order a pizza.
Jodie Jones can kiss my ass. She’s hot, sure, but if her and her parents are that judgmental, I don’t need her ass. It would serve her right if I went over to her house and told her and her parents both to kiss my ass. I could even take a piss on their house on the hill. I wonder how little Miss Stop Harassing Me, would like that shit! The more I think on the idea, the more I like it.