The potatoes taste dry, like I’m trying to swallow down sandpaper, so I take a chug of water, too. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have gorged myself into a coma by the end of dinner.
“Well, it sounds lovely just the same,” my mom says. She leans in towards Cecelia, comparatively. “So, do you think he’ll ask you out again?”
“Umm…. somehow, I doubt it.”
Molly snorts.
Cecelia catches my eye and we grin at each other – I know we’re both thinking the same thing: that I couldn’t stand how Molly was always snorting, and how unladylike I thought it was.
We must have been grinning at each other stupidly, because a shoe kicks my shin and Molly is shooting me a knock-it-off look.
Point taken.
“Well, it’s his loss,” my mom continues. “Anyone would be a fool to let you get away.”
CHAPTER 21
CECELIA
“To be fair, if you didn’t want stale potato chips and orange juice, then you shouldn’t have said “Whatever” when I asked what you’d like for dinner.”
– Matthew’s old college roommate, Smitty.
I try not to squirm in my seat – really, I do – but it’s damn near impossible.
Between constantly getting kicked under the table or elbowed every two seconds by Molly (which is sure to leave some nice bruising), I also have to avoid:
The heated looks Matthew is sending me from across the table as he continues shoving food into his mouth just to avoid confrontations from his family (what a chicken shit).
The confused glances their poor parent’s keep giving each other because they clearly have no clue what the hell the three of us have going on.
In a way, it’s almost like some fucked up love triangle. Minus the love. Minus the triangle.
And I’m most definitely in the center of it.
I zone out for a second, but then I hear Mrs. Wakefield saying, “Well, it’s his loss. Anyone would be a fool to let you get away.”
I shoot another covert look at Matthew, who is downing a glass of water and probably pretending it’s something stronger - like Vodka or a Jaeger Bomb – and get another small poke in the ribs from my roommate. Clearly, she is enjoying all of this.
The playful banter among Molly, Matthew and their parent’s progress as the night goes on, until we’re all helping clear the table and bringing everything into the kitchen. Dishes get loaded into the dishwasher, the table cloth comes off, glasses get washed by hand in the sink, and leftovers get distributed among us kids in plastic containers.
Molly and I are standing at the kitchen sink – her washing drinking glasses, me drying them – when Matthew walks in, letting out a loud sigh.
Without even looking over at him, Molly emits a loud sigh of her own. “What,” she deadpans. It’s not a question, and it’s not a statement.
“Why haven’t I been invited to this Halloween party you’re going to?”
Molly removes her hands from the soapy sink water and places them on the edge of the sink, turning her body towards me, a disgusted look on her face. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “What? He asked what I was doing for Halloween… then one thing led to another…”
“Can’t I have one night free from this Neanderthal? You had to bring up the party? Ugh, I could smack you right now.”
Like she hadn’t been doing that all night already? “Jeez, chill. I didn’t know it was a secret. I thought everyone was going. Besides, I invited you so you have no room to complain.”
Molly slaps a frustrated hand against the counter, causing a small spray of soapy water to cascade and hit the window above the sink. “Ugh. Ever since the two of you started emailing each other or whatever it is you’re doing, he’s been nothing but a pain in my ass, I swear.”
As I contemplate strangling her, she goes on. “Cece, you have got to quit inviting people. I mean. Stop. You keep inviting literally everyone under the sun and Amber is going to be pissed.” She shoots me a pointed look that says ‘don’t argue with me.’
I give Molly a deranged look because clearly she’s lost her damn mind, and Matthew clears his throat. “Hi. I’m still standing right here.”
We both ignore him. “I didn’t invite him, Molly - I just mentioned it. Calm down.”
“Yeah, so this isn’t awkward…” Matthew mutters.
“Shut it, Matt.” This from Molly.
“You know what your problem is Cece? You’re wayyy too nice. A freaking bleeding heart.”
Matthew snorts (the hypocrite) as Molly grabs a towel to dry her hands, turning to face her brother with a saccharine sweet smile planted on her face. “Ok. Fine. Matty, would you like to come to a grown-up Halloween party? It’s probably much classier than what you’re used to. Not really your usual scene.”
Matthew palms his chin. “Hmm. As tempting as that invitation sounds, I’ll have to think about it. Can you text me the details?”