Aiden sighs, a sound of exhausted long-suffering. “Don’t be dramatical, Aunt Cora. You can still kiss me, but you’ve gotta slow down with the tickling. I almost peed my pants.” And, in fact, he’s doing the pee-pee dance, poking at himself.
I laugh. “Wellgo, then, you big goofball!”
He rabbits off at a run for the bathroom, the door slamming, the toilet seat clanking loudly.
Cora flops onto her back on the couch. My best friend since forever, Cora is my diametric opposite in just about everything. Where I’m a homebody, she’s a party girl; where I’m quiet, she’s loud; where I’m reserved and cautious, she’s outspoken and bold. She gets us into trouble, and as Miss Sweetness-and-Light-and-Innocence, I get us out of it.
She’s been hauling me out to parties for our entire lives and I always try to resist, only to succumb to her wheedling in the end. Which is what’s about to happen.
Aiden comes back into the living room, plops back down on the floor, and goes back to playing Legos.
“So.” Cora sits up, curly, glossy black hair swaying. Her bright green eyes twinkle mischievously. “School starts up next week.”
I play dumb. “Yep. Summer goes by fast.”
She scoots across the couch in a comical series of hops. “And you’ve barely done anything all summer.”
I roll my eyes at her, standing up and heading out onto my little back porch, so we can sit and talk out of earshot of Aiden. “I rode bikes with Aiden, took him to the pool, went to movies, spent a week with my parents in Florida,” I tell her as we sit down. “I’d hardly call that nothing.”
“Yeah, but that’s all Aiden, Aiden, Aiden.” She uses a whiny tone of voice when she says his name. “What about Cora? How many times have you been out with Cora, Cora, Cora?”
“He’s my son, Cora.” I pin her with a serious look. “His behavior is just starting to level off.”
She sighs. “I know, I know. But I’m just saying, literally everything you do is with Aiden. You have, like, zero personal life.”
“I’m a single mother, babe. I hate to break it to you, but that’s sort of par for the course.”
“Your parents live ten minutes from here, and they’re retired. You know they’d watch him more if you asked.”
“Cora, come on.”
She doesn’t back down. “Youcome on, Elyse. I’m not saying go out every night, or bring a bunch of guys home, but at least meet me for drinks once in a while.” She glares at me. “I’m forced topretendto be best friends with Vivian Pratt because my real,actualbest friend won’t ever go out with me.”
“You love Vivian,” I say, sighing. “She’s fun.”
“Sure, but I haven’t been best friends with hersincebirth. It’s not the same.”
“Is there a point to all this?” I ask.
“One week before school starts and I demand that you party it up with meoncethis summer. Meaning, tonight. Right now.” Cora blinks innocently at me like a cartoon character—I can all but hear her eyelashes goingtink…tink-tink.“I already talked to Mom, and she’s expecting Aiden at seven. She has pizza on speed dial, a whole season ofNinjagodownloaded on her iPad, and Dad is bringing ice cream home on his way back from golf.” Cora has referred to my parents as Mom and Dad since fifth grade, when things in her own home life went…er…somewhat sour, let’s say, and my parents basically adopted her.
I sigh. “Of course you fixed things with my parents behind my back.”
“They agree with me, I’ll have you know,” Cora says, her voice arch. “They want to see more of Aiden, and they think you need to start getting out more.”
“I don’twantto start getting out more.”
“You need to go out on a date someday, Elyse. It’s been three years.” Her voice is quiet, now.
I fiddle with my phone, waking it up with my thumbprint and then putting it to sleep again. “I’ve been on lots of dates—”
“Aiden doesn’t count,” she interrupts.
I groan. “Why do you want me to go on a date so bad? And who with? Lewis Calhoun?” Lewis is the only remotely eligible bachelor in our tiny town—also known to be the town supplier for a certain smokable substance currently illegal in our state.
“You need to get laid, Elyse,” Cora says, watching me warily.
“Cora!”
