“Yeah, okay then, I'm free. Same time in the library?”
“How about you come to my place after I’m done with my practice? That way I can head to TJ’s as soon as we’re done.”
“It’s a date,” she says, then her cheeks burn bright red and she stammers, “No I didn’t mean it's a date, date. Just that it’s a date, like we’ve set a date. Oh my god, I mean I’ll be there…ugh, whatever, you know what I mean.”
I can’t help the ridiculous grin on my face. This girl is too cute.
“Relax, I know what you meant. I'll text you my address, yeah?” I motion over to the waitress to bring the check.
We leave the restaurant and she doesn't look back at me once as she gets into her car and pulls away. My eyes are trained on her until the car disappears. The whole way home all I can think about is how much it bothered me that she left without looking back. I don't like watching her leave and yet I can’t work out the hell why.
I turn onto my street and remember promising I’d be home straight after practice to help Dad move some furniture into the garage. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Excuses are running through my head, rather than telling him the truth. If there’s one thing he won’t tolerate it’s people breaking plans. He’s almost to the point of O.C.D about following through with arrangements. It’s all about discipline and structure. It’s the cop in him, he expects everyone to practice what he preaches. His word is law. He's been on the force my whole life. Roughly the same amount of time he's been an asshole. I see him standing at the garage as I’m pulling into the driveway. He’s looking all kinds of pissed. Ice cold dread seeps through my veins as I pull to a stop and climb out of my car. His eyes lock with mine and now I know I'm screwed.
“WHERE’VE YOU BEEN? I've been worried sick!” Mom practically shouts as I walk through the front door. I kick my shoes off in the hall and make my way through to the kitchen and get myself a soda.
“Blair did you hear me, where have you been?”
“I told you I was going to be late getting home; I was tutoring. We finished and got hungry so we stopped and had dinner—what’s the problem?” I know my tone is pissy, but she’s sitting at the kitchen island looking annoyed and I don't want her to bring me down off my Ethan-induced high.
“I didn't get your text,” she says in an accusatory manner, and I know she’s not in the best mood. She looks tired and she’s always in a foul mood when she’s tired. I sigh and lean on my elbows across the island.
“I texted you a couple of hours ago, Mom. How’s your day been?”
“Same as usual—Clare’s off sick so it’s been busy but nothing new. So, who are you tutoring?”
I take a long drink of the soda I've just taken from the fridge and then look at Mom eying me curiously. I know she knows who Ethan Jamison is, the whole town does. Emily used to talk about him non-stop, too, and she’s seen the stalker pics pinned to my notice board. She laughed her ass off when Emily told her that she’d made me take pictures of her with Ethan in the background. Told us that we were heading the right way for a restraining order.
“It’s Ethan Jamison,” I answer, trying to be nonchalant and portray zero emotion in my voice. Her head snaps back up from her coffee and there’s a smile forming across her face. All traces of her shitty mood gone.
“Emily’s Ethan?”
“He was never really Emily’s Ethan, Mom, but yeah, that Ethan.” Please drop it, please drop it.
“No, but you knew who I meant. Is he as cute in real life as he is in his pictures?”
I snort and send soda spraying all over the island. Mom looks at me wide-eyed for a second before bursting out laughing. I can’t help but join her; I have soda dripping from my chin and a slight burning sensation at the back of my nose from the fizz. I suddenly realize that I can’t recall the last time we laughed like this, it’s been so long and the thought saddens me. I wipe at my face with my sleeve and answer her.
“He’s actually better looking in person. He’s having trouble in Professor Hillman’s class. I get extra credit for helping him.”
Mom looks over at me and wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s a win, win then.”
I smile and nod. “Definitely.”
Mom picks her coffee mug back up and motions for me to follow her into the living room.
“Come and tell me more about Ethan, honey.”
“There’s nothing to tell, really. This is the first I’ve ever really spoken to him. I’m helping him study again Friday night. It’s weird; he’s kind of funny and totally not how I expected him to be at all. At school he walks the halls like he owns them, but today he was different. I don’t know, we sort of got off on the wrong foot but it helped, I think.”