Shooter: HAHAHAHAHA!
Me: What is so funny, you jackass?
Shooter: That was months ago. You’re still thinking about it?
Me: So? It’s ridiculous.
Shooter: What’s wrong? Are you finally seeing I’m right?
Me: No, dipshit. You’re not right. He behaves totally normal around me.
Shooter: Mmhmm. Sure, he does.
Me: I hate you.
Shooter: Love you too!
Grumbling to myself, I shove my phone into my pocket and busy myself with chores around the house. A little while later, I’m loading the dishwasher when Grady ambles into the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m about to head out.”
Glancing over my shoulder, my gaze runs over him. He’s dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, an all-black t-shirt, high-top black Converse, and he’s wearing a red and white Powder Ridge Arena snapback on backwards. His dirty blonde hair peeks out from under the hat.
“Alright, hope you have fun,” I mutter, turning off the water and drying my hands off with the tea towel.
“It’ll probably be kind of late when I get back. I think we’re going to the movies after.”
Raising a brow, I ask, “Movies twice in one day?”
He laughs. “I know. Didn’t know they wanted to go, but at least it’ll be a different movie.”
“You mean youdon’twant to watch the princess movie for a second time?”
“Tempting,” he teases, his gaze holding mine. “But I think the people I’m going with may not approve.”
“Well, they sound lame,” I quip, tossing the rag over my shoulder and folding my arms over my chest.
“I know, right?” Grady smiles, rolling his eyes dramatically. His whole face brightens.
We watch each other for a moment, neither of us saying anything else. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as it feels like the air is sucked out of the room. I’m having such a fucking off day; I don’t understand what’s going on.
His smile fades for a moment before he throws it back into place, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “Alright, I’m out of here. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, G. Have fun.”
“Thanks.”
He leaves, and as I hear the front door click shut, I turn around, getting back to doing the dishes. I spend an obnoxious amount of time the rest of the evening thinking about Grady and his friends, and what they’re up to, and if he’s having a good time.
Why do I care, is what I want to know.
12
Grady Wilde
Ihate blind dates.
They’re awkward and awful, and there’s so much pressure, even if you try to make it low key. I never want to go on one again.
