“And, she told me she has a son your age,” he said as we plodded down the road at exactly the speed limit. “The way she talked about him, I’d assumed he was younger. She doesn’t look my age at all.”
How much aftershave had Dad used? “I know him,” I admitted.
“What?” He turned his attention from the road to me.
“I know her son.” He’d find out anyway. “He dated my best friend.”
“Well,” he said, clearly surprised. “It’s a small world.”
Too freakin’ small for my taste.
Dad glanced over at me. “So, he’s a good kid?”
“He’s okay,” I said with a shrug.
“Because we’re going over there for dinner tonight.” He sounded excited about it.
“Great.” The way to my dad’s heart totally was through his pudgy stomach. He was so into gourmet cooking. Jake’s mom was a real estate agent, so their two-story house was really nice. I’d been there lots of times.
The sad thing was that I’d always thought my mom and Jake’s mom would get along. Now, I was heading to her house with my dad. So much for that friendship.
“Are you okay with this?” Dad asked over the tick-tick of the turn signal.
I knew I should hate him, but I just couldn’t. He didn’t mean to ruin my life. I guess he couldn’t help it. Being nice sucked. Anya was always telling me to work on being bitchier. She had a point. She’d always been high maintenance and she got what she wanted.
“It’s fine,” I said, glancing out the window as Dad turned onto a side street.
At least I knew things couldn’t get worse.
I learned how wrong I was ten minutes after getting to Jake’s house. We were in the kitchen, helping with the salad, when he said, “So what do you think about Camille?”
I just looked at him and pretended he hadn’t stabbed me in the heart. Anya was right. He was interested in Camille—another one of my best friends. “She’s great,” I admitted, working to keep my voice neutral.
“I was thinking about asking her to the dance.” He kept slicing the tomatoes. His over-sized hound, Indiana, sat on his haunches begging for scraps.
Of course he was. “Great.” Oops. I might have missed neutral on that one. I concentrated on washing the lettuce.
He stopped and looked at me. “What?”
“What what?” Two could play that game.
“You don’t sound like you like the idea,” he said and put down the knife.
“No. I just...” Why did life have to be so complicated? I turned to meet his gaze. “Do you like her or are you just asking out one of Anya’s friends to get to Anya? I mean Camille has feelings too.”
His eyes widened. “My God, Zoe. Do you really think I’d do that? I’m not mean.”
He and I had spent a lot of time together. With Anya, of course. “I know.” Great. I’d insulted him.
“I haven’t decided about Camille anyway,” he said. “I wanted your opinion.”
“Do you always ask your mother’s boyfriend’s daughters for opinions about your love life?”
He looked hurt. “No,” he said. “I do ask my friends though.”
Okay, now I felt like a real creep. “I’m sorry, Jake. I… This whole thing with our parents is totally stressing me out. And then there’s Anya and Brad, and you and Camille, and I…” I shook my head and turned off the faucet. “I just need a break,” I said, turning to him.
His green eyes softened. “I know what you mean.”
“You do?” Why did he have to be so hot?
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s ditch the parents and go to a movie.”
Getting out of here would rock. “We can’t do that, can we?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know why not. They’d probably rather be alone anyway. Plus, they don’t ask our opinions on every move they make.”
True. They made all kinds of plans without asking us. My spirits lifted. “Let’s do it.” I snatched a piece of cheddar and gave it to Indiana.
Chapter Three
Jake was right. Neither of them protested too much. And we got a twenty from each of them. Ten minutes later, Dad dropped us at the theater.
“Text me when you pick the movie, and let me know what time it lets out,” my dad said. “You can ask the usher.”
“I know. I will.”
Dad waved and pulled away from the curve.
“So what movie should we see?” Jake asked as we walked up the steps to the front of the twelve-plex.
“I don’t care,” I said truthfully. “I’ll watch anything. As long as it’s not about divorce. I’m full up on divorce right now.”
Jake grinned. “I know what you mean.”
I vetoed the artsy choice. “Nothing with suicide either.”
“Agreed.” Jake stuck his hands in his jean pockets and studied the marquee. ”How do you feel about action?”
I loved it when he stood that way. So GQ. “Action’s good. But no horror.”
We settled on a Jackie Chan movie. Humor and action were always a winning combination in my book. I got the exact ending time and called Dad.
Since we’d skipped dinner, we got popcorn, candy, and drinks. We passed on the withered hot dogs, but decided to risk some nachos. I didn’t have to pretend I never ate much, because I didn’t have a chance in hell with Jake anyway.
Obviously, I’m always trying to find the up side to everything. The up side to being a witch was that I could help people with my potions. The up side to a movie with Jake, even as a friend, was that I got to go to a movie with Jake. Usually, I sat on the other side of Anya when they let me tag along on their dates. Tonight, it was just the two of us, and while it wasn’t a date, at least I wasn’t the third wheel. The role of pathetic dateless friend had grown old.
We found seats in the auditorium and dropped the armrests to situate our drinks and snacks. Jake slouched down in his seat, adjusting his long legs in the aisle.
His hottiness wasn’t just about looks. He had this energy about him that kind of radiated. Sitting beside him was like being wrapped in his energy field, and it felt really good.
The previews had finished and the lights had dimmed when a couple came in. They climbed to the row in front of us as the screen grew brighter. My jaw dropped to the floor. Jake tensed.
It was totally Anya and Brad. And they were sitting right in front of us.
“Oh my God,” I muttered.
“You got that right,” Jake said.
“Should we move?”
“No,” he said. “We’ll just ignore them.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“This sucks,” he mumbled.
It really did. I felt sorry for him.
Then Anya noticed us. She twisted around to see us better. “Hey,” she said. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We bailed on our parents,” I said before Jake could answer.
“Oh,” Anya had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Well, um.” She looked at Brad and then at Jake. “This is weird.”
“Hey, dude,” Brad said to Jake.
“Hey,” Jake answered.
They turned around to watch the movie and I crossed my fingers that we wouldn’t have to watch them make out. If they started kissing, I might have to use one of my trump cards. I didn’t want Jake to suffer.
Jake grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth. He didn’t seem happy at all. I really doubted he could concentrate on the movie.
We made it twenty minutes before Brad put his arm around Anya. Jake choked on a nacho. I didn’t hold out much hope for them not kissing. I’d have to get a card out. I could only do the spell while holding the card. Of course, I also had to choose one. The vomiting spell held a lot of appeal. Anya spewing up her dinner would definitely stop the making out with the added bonus that Jake would be disgusted. Using the charm that way would be more self-serving though, and the punishment would be worse.
I could probably make it out of the theater in time, but I’d rather hang out with Jake.
Jackie Chan had defeated about half the bad guys by the time Anya decided to kiss Brad. Jake kicked Brad’s chair. Brad didn’t notice, so Jake did it again harder.
“Dude,” Brad said.
Jake growled.
Brad went right back to kissing Anya. Not good. A sneezing fit would break up their little tongue-swapping fest also. I could save Jake the pain without ruining Anya and Brad’s relationship. I reached down to dig for my wallet. One sneeze attack coming up.
“Should we leave?” I whispered to Jake to distract him.
“No,” he said, leaning closer to me. Suddenly, he didn’t seem as stressed but more like his old self. “I think I should kiss you.”
“What? No!” Oh my God! I dropped my wallet back into my purse.
“Why not?” he asked in a low voice that sent shivers through me.
I made myself look at him as I whispered, “Because you don’t want to kiss me, you just want to bother Anya. And she’s my best friend.”
“Right,” he said, backing away. “I guess we shouldn’t then.”