“Girl’s solid,” Whit agrees. “We invited her for dinner tomorrow. You three need to clean your shit up. I’m cooking. Might even make chicken parm.”
I smile. My guys like her. She’s been in my bed and I never want her to leave. Life is good, as long as I can keep this charade going.
The guys mill around the house, and I get a text from my mom, basically demanding I visit Brett. They’ve arranged for a family visitation at 1 o’clock this afternoon, which is half an hour from now. Wow. Thanks for the notice, Mom. Not that I have any intention of going. I text back that I have to prepare for an upcoming interview for an internship, which is technically true, then turn my phone off.
Once again, I wish I was living someone else’s life. Every time I get comfortable, the reality of my family comes crashing in, ruining what little peace I’ve managed to make.
***
Phoebe
It’s early fall in eastern Maryland, and I’m a hot, sweaty mess. I was with the Art Ed Society at a harvest festival, painting faces, carving pumpkins, and making crafts. It was the perfect day--sunshine, kids, and art, but I’m beat. And I’m pretty sure my face is sunburnt. I pull in to Drip needing a cold coffee and some quality time with Mel and Ian, who are both working today.
I should also finishPride and Prejudice,but ugh. Maybe I can talk Ty into reading it to me. I mean, we’re allowed to use audiobooks, and that’s almost the same thing, right?
Walking into the crowded coffee shop, I spot an empty seat at the counter and take it. Minutes later, there’s a drink in front of me. Having friends who work at a coffee shop really is pretty fantastic.
It’s mostly quiet, except for the buzz of a few conversations. I open upP and P, grab my trusty highlighter, and pen and get to work.
An hour later, I swear I’ve gotten through about three pages. It’s getting good, but it takes me forever. Ty says there’s nothing wrong with reading a section twice. In fact, he called it an excellent reading strategy. But Lordy, it takes a while.
“How are Lizzy and Darcy?” Mel takes the seat beside me as Ian busies himself behind the bar. Things have quieted down and there are only a few other patrons in the place.
“Honestly? I like it a lot. Wickham’s an asshole, which, I mean, come on. How did she not see that? But, at this rate, I’ll be done by Thanksgiving. And this paper is due next week. Ugh.”
“Good thing you have that hot tutor, then, huh?” Mel asks, a gleam in her eye. “And is that where you were all night? Reading in the library? Because I didn’t hear you come home or see you at all this morning.”
I roll my eyes. “I did come home.”
“Really? At what time?”
“Around 8. And you were fast asleep on the futon. You didn’t hear me. I showered and dressed without waking you, but I left a note.”
“Did you stick it on the bathroom mirror?”
“Uh, no. I put it on the mini fridge.”
“That’s where you went wrong. I’d never look there. But I have to look in the mirror every morning. Now you’ll know for next time.”
“Are we really having this conversation? Sometimes living with people is weird.”
“Says the girl who never sleeps and watches Netflix all night…”
“Hey, I wear earbuds and stay in my room.”
“True. So, how was your sleepover?”
“Ooh, a sleepover?” Ian says, after finishing an oat milk latte for a customer and joining our conversation. “Where’d you crash, Mel?”
“It wasn’t me,” she says. “Phoebe spent the night at The Chapel.”
Ian gives me a look.
“Are you the oldest, Ian?” I ask. He looks confused, but answers, “No, I’m in the middle. Peter’s two years older, and Lucas is two years younger. Why?”
“Oh, that makes sense. That’s where you learned it.”
“What are you talking about? And can we get back to this sleepover business?”
