Ijust hopped out of the shower, I’m dripping water all over my floor, I can only find one of my shoes, and I need to meet Mel in ten minutes.
And my mom keeps calling.
Fuck my life.
I dry off quickly, step into boxers and then pull on jeans. About ten seconds in, I realize I didn’t fully think this through, but here we are. There’s no turning back now.
I tug at the jeans, sort of hopping around and forcing my wet hairy legs into the denim. It is not easy. It is not fun. But I feel like peeling them off would be more of the same, so I soldier on. Finally, I’ve got them on, buttoned, and zipped. Socks take five seconds, a t-shirt takes another five, my left shoe has been kidnapped, so I dig through my closet to find a pair of slip-ons. I grab a hoodie and my phone, and I’m out the door.
Then my mom calls again. I could tell her I’m at class, but it’s six p.m. and she’d know that was a lie. I could tell her I’m studying at the library, but I’ve used that excuse the last three times she’s called. And it’s not that I don’t love my mom—I do; she’s awesome. But she’s also a lot. I mean, I know I can come off as high strung, but I’m fucking mellow next to Wendi Franconetti.
“Hey, Ma, what’s up?” I say, trying my best not to sound like I’m running down the steps, even though that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Willie!Sweetheart! I thought I’d never hear your voice again!” My mom kinda speaks in all-caps, so I’m holding the phone a good six inches from my ear.
Van’s sitting in the living room, chilling on the couch, eating pickles straight out of the jar. “Hey Mrs. Franconetti!” he calls, which only makes her squeal with delight.Ouch.
“Mrs. Netts is calling?” Ollie asks, peeking his head out of the kitchen to nab the phone from my hand. Great. Now I’ll never get out of here.
Ollie’s every bit as loud as my mom, and I can hear their conversation from ten feet away. He’s thanking her for the cookies she sent, and she’s apparently making more right now so she can send us another batch. My mom loves to bake, and these guys love to eat, so she’s become their favorite person, which is good. I sincerely hope she remembers just how much she likes my teammates when she finally meets them and sees the house we live in. My mother lives by the motto:A place for everything and everything in its place. My housemates live by the motto:Just put that anywhere.
“I gotta go,” I say to Ollie, reaching for my phone to say a quick goodbye to my mom before hanging up. Ollie goes back to burning something on the stove. I turn to leave, but stop when I catch Van staring at me. He’s doing that thing he does sometimes, like he can read my mind just by looking at me. It’s weird as hell, but it works like a damn charm on the ice. The guy just picks up vibes or reads facial cues or something. He says he’s not smart, and I know he’s barely getting by in all his classes, so he may not be book smart, but he is definitely people smart. And right now, he knows something’s up.
He must also sense that I don’t really want to talk about it, though, because he just nods decisively as if I’ve just confirmed something and then goes back to eating his pickles.
“Have a good night,” I say as I leave, just because sayinghow can you read my damn mindseems awkward.
“You too,” he calls. Yeah, he definitely knows something’s up. But I have no time to explain. I’m already late, so I really can’t spare a minute for the I-have-a-fake-girlfriend conversation. Plus, it’s supposed to be a secret.
I’m halfway to campus when my phone starts buzzing again. Crap. “Ma,” I answer, “I really can’t talk right now. I’m late to meet Mel…vin. Yeah. Melvin. He’s a kid from my Calc class, so I gotta go. Tell Dad and Wes I love them,” I pull the phone back to hit the red button and that’s when I hear laughter.
“Melvin? Really? That’s my code name?”
Shit.
“No, I mean, yes,” I stammer. “I was running late—”
“You are late,” she tells me. “It’s ten after six.”
Shit.
“Sorry, I lost track of time at the gym, then I grabbed food at the dining hall before I ran home to shower and change, but there was a line for the bathroom, then my mom called like six times, and Ollie had to talk to her because they’re BFF’s, and it took me a while to get out of my house.”
“It’s fine,” she says. “Where are you?”
“About two blocks from campus, on Mason, right by the donut place.”
“Stay there,” she tells me. “I’ll pick you up in two.”
I do as I’m told, scrolling through my phone as I wait for her. I have no clue what we’re doing tonight; I’m leaving all of that up to Mel since she’s the expert. But I hope it involves food. I’m starving, even though I ate an hour ago.
A few minutes later, Mel pulls up in her bright red car. It’s like a ladybug on wheels, and it suits her. I slide into the passenger side, adjusting the seat as far back as it will go. Once I’m buckled, Mel pulls back out into traffic, drives a few blocks, then takes the exit for the highway.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see it when we get there,” she says with a smile, and I hope to god it’s not one of those paint-your-own pottery places. I hate that stuff. I have no artistic ability, and I can almost guarantee I’ll break something. Those places aren’t built for guys my size. But Mel knows best, so I guess I’ll trust her.
“So, I was going to tell you that the first rule of dating is to be on time,” she says, her brow arching. “But shit happens, and I totally get that. Also, I want to hear more about this Melvin character. He sounds pretty great”
