It’s not as if she’s going to try out for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders or a professional basketball dance team.
The time to leave was now.
She loves those little kids at the academy and wishes she would have done it sooner.
Mom goes to the pantry to fetch the Fritos while I watch my great aunt purse her hot pink lips at me from across the room.
“What?” I ask her, not sure why she’s making faces at me. “Why are you giving me that look?”
“What look? I have a date tonight—does this expression make me look alluring?” Her lips do a trout pout.
“Alluring?” Um, no.
“Yes, alluring? Sexy. I want him to move in for a kiss. The old bastard hasn’t made a move on me yet, and we’ve gone out twice.”
“Aunt Myrtle, I’m sure he’s trying to be a gentleman,” Mom says, walking back into the kitchen with a bag of chips and a few more snacks. She goes and grabs a few bowls, dumping the junk food into them and passing them off to me.
“I don’t want him to be a gentleman—we’ve been over this four times. Either one of us could kick the bucket any day now, so what’s he waiting for? An invitation?”
Mom laughs. “Possibly.”
“Well he ain’t gettin’ one.” Aunt Myrtle takes her tiny espresso cup with a huff, shuffling out of the room, marabou cascading behind her.
A pink feather flutters to the ground.
Mom sags against the counter. “I cannot with her. She thinks she’s Bette Davis in a movie straight out of the forties.”
“Whatever makes the old girl happy. She isn’t wrong—they could kick the bucket any day now.” I say it with a laugh as my mother gasps, shooing me out of the room by snapping a towel at my ass.
When I arrive back at the living room, I take in the scene from the doorway before entering; there is an emotion inside me swirling around at the sight of my friends laughing and joking that I’ve never felt before. Is this what being totally content feels like? I don’t just love my girlfriend; I love my friends too. I love the place I’m in—and I’m not just talking about the house I live in with Jack and Eliza.
“Babe, come sit.” Lilly pats the seat next to her, inviting me back to the couch to watch the movie we’ve all settled on; tomorrow night the four of us are going for dinner to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
Another first for me.
Also a first? Someone calling me babe.
It felt strange at the beginning and took some getting used to, but I’ve recently started calling her babe, too. Other nicknames Lilly has taken a shine to for me?
Sugar bottom
Hot lips
Sweetie
Honey buns
I think she’s made it her mission in life to use a new moniker each and every time she texts me, whereas I’ve stuck primarily to babe. I have enough going through my head; I don’t need to be making up new variations of an endearment every single morning.
My girlfriend loves that I’m awkward and make mistakes. Loves that I don’t seem to know what I’m doing but that I’m coachable and willing to try. She isn’t shy about telling me what she wants and needs from the relationship, and I’m glad for it; I’m no mind reader, and neither is she.
It’s something we both work on, though it hasn’t come easy. Every day is a work in progress, but I’m proud of us.
I take my seat beside her, handing Jack the Fritos. He takes the bowl and immediately plows his hand through the chips, choosing three and sticking them into his open mouth.
“Easy there.” Eliza laughs. “You’re acting like no one has fed you.”
“I’m always hungry. You know this.”
“We know,” the three of us chorus, because Jack is always hungry and has a history of eating all the food in the house, including leftovers that don’t belong to him.
It’s like we’re the Four Musketeers now, spending hours of free time together, on double dates and doing whatever. On the rare occasion we’ll even study in the library as a group. Not often, but sometimes.
“We don’t have these in England. It’s like Christmas every time I get a bag.”
“The grocery store is literally full of them,” Eliza deadpans, stealing a few chips. “If you want, I can start buying them for you.”
Jack shakes his head. “They don’t taste as good.”
He’s ridiculous.
Beside me, Lilly takes my arm and leans in, burrowing into me. “Am I spending the night tonight?” she whispers. “I have something for you.”
I raise my brows. “Oh?”
Turns out that ‘something’ is a sexy nerd outfit, complete with black horn-rimmed glasses with a piece of tape in the middle. She climbs up the bed wearing a skimpy button-down shirt with a pocket protector (with a pencil inside), a loose tie, and white boy shorts.