“Drafted into a romance reading book club?” It was really hard to keep a straight face. “Bywho?”
“By my mother.” He sounded so bleak, I nearly laughed again. “It was supposed to be a secret, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to invite half the town now.” Hesighed.
“That’s not cool. Dude, everyone knows the first rule of romance book club is nobody talks about romance bookclub.”
I waited for him to get the reference, and sure enough Julian’s lips twitched, seemingly against his will. A full Julian smile bloomed on his face a second later. “You’re anass.”
“But a funnyone.”
“Occasionally. Romance book club,” he muttered. Then he snorted. Then he sighed. “She asked and I couldn’t say no. I still feel guilty that I lied to her about us, and she knowsit.”
“Oh. You mean, your mom knows that we—” I gestured back and forth between Julian andme.
“No! No.” He looked around like someone might be listening. “Nobody knowsthatexcept you and me. But I haven’t been forthcoming about our friendship. I think she’s annoyed that I’ve known you for so long and haven’t introduced you, or at least passed on every bit of information aboutyou.”
I frowned. “My life is nobody else’sbusiness.”
“Iknow.”
“You don’t owe your mother or anyone else anexplanation.”
“I know.” His eyes lookedweary.
“And you sure as heck don’t have to let her press-gang you into reading romance if you’d rather not, justbecause—”
“Yes, Daniel. I know.” He pushed a hand through his hair in frustration. “I need to gethome.”
He grabbed the book and stuck it back in his pocket, then turned and continued down the street. Though he was shorter than me, I had to practically jog to keep up withhim.
“Are you mad atme?”
“No.”
“Really? Because it seems like you’re mad at me, when all I did was point outthat—”
He whirled and faced me. “That I don’t need to tell my mother anything about you and that I should have saidno. Yes, Daniel. I know, Daniel. Story of my damn life, Daniel. Can we just not talk aboutthis?”
He turned to walk on and I caught hisarm.
“Julian,” I began, not sure exactly what I wanted to say afterthat.
He huffed out a breath. “Look, you don’t get it. You don’t care what anyone thinks of you, you don’t care if they’re your friends, blah blah blah. That’s great. Go, you. I’m not like that. My mother…” He shook his head shortly. “Constantine says I let her get away with too much, and maybe that’s true, but I don’t like to fight. I don’t like arguing. Ever. My dad—” He shook his head again. “Whatever. Suffice it to say, I’m a big, huge pushover, especially where she is concerned.Okay?”
His blue eyes were defiant, like he expected me to give him shit, and I swallowed what I’d been about to say. I’d had my own hard-fought battles with parents who expected me to fall in line, but my scorched-earth style of filial disobedience wasn’t necessarily for everyone, and I was hardly an expert on healthy familydynamics.
“Okay,” Isaid.
He blinked. “Okay.”
“AndThanksgiving?”
He pushed out a sound that was half-frustration, half-resignation. “My mother would really like to meetmy boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes. “But if that’s not your thing, it’s fine. I’ll… figure somethingout.”
“Find a new fake boyfriend on Craigslist, maybe? I think I saw that in a movieonce.”
Julian didn’t appreciate my attempt at humor if the look on his face was anything to goby.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, not really sure whether that was true. “If you want me to be there, I’ll be there.” I shrugged, like it didn’t really matter much either way, but I wasn’t really sure if that was true, either. It felt like itshouldn’tmatter, that itshouldn’tbe a big deal, but a dinner party with Julian’s family sounded… fairlytorturous.
