Guiltily, I look away.
“Cecelia Jane Carter! What the fack! You little slut!” Molly grabs a decorative pillow (one of many on her white, eyelet-lace themed bed) and hits me in the face with it – not once, but twice. “How could you withhold this information?!”
If only she knew how easy it was…
Too easy to keep it a secret.
Too easy with him.
Easy, easy, easy.
I sigh and flop down on the bed.
Molly groans. “Ugh, spare me. I don’t even freaking believe this.” She flops down next to me and we lay there, staring up at the white, popcorn ceiling. “How the hell did this all come about? All this time, Weston’s been running interference and you two are secretly still doing it anyways!”
“I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. It just sort of happened…”
“Oh barf. Everyone says that. I say that.”
“Well it’s true! After your mom made him send the ‘I can’t email you anymore’ email, it just kept going. I mean. He is kind of funny. Well, I mean, most times he’s not. But it doesn’t really matter because he’s been so kind. Did you know he coaches a youth hockey league?”
The look on Molly’s face is priceless, and she stares at me like… like I’ve just swiped the last pair of clearanced-out Tory Burch flats out from under her at a Neiman Marcus sale.
Horrified.
“Are you trying to make me nauseous? Ugh, you should see the sappy look on your damn face.” She smacks me with the back of her arm. Taking a deep, calming breath she finally says, “So. You’ve been emailing. And texting too? And now he’s ignoring you because….?”
The word hangs there.
“Because the last text I sent him was about my date with Neve. And he never responded. Here, see for yourself.” I lift my hips and dig the phone out of my skinny jeans, setting it in her open palm.
Thumbing over the messages, Molly’s lips curl. “I think I’m going to throw up. What’s this shit about him speaking Italian?” She raises her eyebrow and looks over at me, laughing. “Seriously? I need to take a screen shot of this and use it to blackmail him. What a tool.” What began as a giggle is now out-of-control laughter, complete with a hiccup at the end.
I’m laughing too. “I know Molly, but I can’t help it. I totally didn’t mean to keep emailing him. It’s just… he’s getting so damn adorable.”
She lets my words marinade for a few minutes, and I let the silence linger in the air without feeling the need to fill it.
“Well. It seems pretty obvious to me that he’s jealous. I know my brother, and he’s going to ignore you now because you’ve pissed him off. Sorry, that’s how he is.” She tosses the phone on the bed. “But look on the bright side! You have a date with Neve. And he is so hot. Wayyy hotter than Matthew…”
I hesitate, mostly because I don’t agree that Neve is better looking, and give a non-committed shrug. “Uh, yeah, I guess?”
“Yeah I guess… but….?” She twists her wrist in a circular motion, encouraging me to go on.
“But. I don’t like him like that.”
“So what are you saying? That Neve doesn’t make your lady parts the least bit wet?”
My palm slaps my forehead. “I cannot believe you just said that…”
“Sorry. I heard it from Jenna and she’s kind of a freak.” She apologizes, then, “But you are still going on that date with him, right?”
“Do you really think I should? I mean, isn’t that leading him on?”
“Are you kidding me right now? No it’s not leading him on – it’s a date, not a marriage proposal.” Molly pats my leg. “If I know my brother – and I think I do – he is going to find out the details from Neve and show up. It’s a move directly from the Matthew Wakefield Playbook.” Molly blows on her nails and then brushes them across her sweater in an ‘I got this’ move. “He’s like a freaking little baby that doesn’t like to share. And when he shows up to ruin his friends date - because he will – boy is he going to regret not getting to you first.”
CHAPTER 13
MATTHEW
“I don’t care where we eat. As long as it’s not one of the 12 places you just named.”
– Someecards.com
So. Not gonna lie.
This isn’t my first dip in the espionage pool.
One time, my buddy Alan – a really nice guy from some small town in Iowa - was dating this wacky chick (Stephanie, I think her name was) back when we were sophomores at Madison. Stephanie had a penchant for unreturned phone calls, texts, and ‘forgetting’ to show up for dates.
Well, we finally convinced Alan she was probably cheating on him with some dude – and we were convinced he was from the Rugby team. After all, she went to a lot of their house parties.