“I promise I won’t leave you alone to become vulture food. We can set up double dates and stuff. It will be fun.” Karli bounces in her chair and grabs hold of my arm.
I remember the last time she said that. I ended up with a needle in my arm, which was not necessarily her fault. I passed out due to dehydration while in the haunted house she made me go in. It obviously had nothing to do with the headless psycho coming at me with a bloody ax.
“I’m not made for fun or dating.” My life history is a testament to that. Specifically, in the dating department. I’ve thrown up on more dates than I can count. I’ve kissed a few guys—not the ones I threw up on. But each kiss was insignificant. There was no foot popping, no heart-stopping. I might not know relationships, but I do know math.
My thirty-seven failed attempts plus my parents’ failed marriage equals one obvious conclusion: love died with the dinosaurs.
“So you’ve had a few rough dates. They can only get better from here.”
Karli is not an eternal optimist, so there must be another reason she wants me to do this.
“I feel like they canonlyget worse from here.”
“But see, that’s the thing. You can chat online until you’re ready to meet in person,” Karli says her eyes bulging as she presents me with this life-changing information.
“Yes. I believe that was the point.”
“Killjoy.” She mutters. “Come on, please do this.”
I lean back in my chair, rolling my neck and gearing up to tackle the rest of these equations as soon as she drops this ridiculous conversation. “Why do you want me to do this exactly?”
Karli’s eyes dart to the table, then the door, then she picks at her nails.
“Karli…?”
“Fine.” She sighs and props her feet up on the table. “I need a project for psych class.”
My eyes narrow. “So naturally, you thought of me?”
“Before you say no”—she holds a hand out—“you should know my grade is kind of on the line, and this project could be the reason I pass or fail.”
I pull my textbook toward me. “I choose fail.”
I actually do my homework. On-time. And well. It’s not my fault she spends her time on her phone or out partying.
“Jules, please.” She turns her evil puppy dog eyes on me. “My parents are going to kill me if I don’t pass this semester. I’ve already wasted enough of their money. I’m trying to be better.”
I raise an unimpressed brow. “That was a good act. Use it on them.”
“Ugh. Fine. I will…” She drops her feet and looks around the kitchen. “I’ll make your favorite cookies whenever you want.”
Tempting. But not good enough.
“And do the dishes for the rest of the month.”
My leg bounces beneath the table. She’s getting closer. Somehow I always end up with that job. Probably because I have no life.
“And I won’t play my music after ten.” She slaps the table.
“Sold!” I would have done it for that alone. I value my sleep like a koala values… well, sleep.
Karli beams and grabs my phone. “Great. I’ll get you set up right now.”
“Right now? I need to study for exams, and I’ve got mountains of homework.”
Karli raises my phone. “Me too. And I’m already two weeks late getting started. So start chatting.”
I wring my hands together, trying very hard not to go all mom on her. We only have a week and a half before finals. A good friend helps another in their time of need. And that is the real reason I am doing this.
