Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
BOWEN
At dinner that night, Mom scraped her fork down the center of her plate to purposely annoy me. She was trying everything in her power to make me crack. She did it again, and Dad’s face pinched, like the sound physically hurt.
“Babe,” he said. “You’re going to scratch the plate if you keep doing that.”
“Oh, sorry.” She smiled at me sweetly. “I didn’t realize it was so loud.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Sophie pursed her lips. “Why do you keep watching Bowen like that? It’s creepy.”
Mom swirled her fork, twisting noodles around the prongs. “Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for him to shatter into a million pieces and like you’re going to laugh maniacally into your pillow when he does.” She looked at me. “Are we in the Twilight Zone?”
“What happened to your hand?” Mom asked for the third time.
“Clem,” Dad said with a sigh. “He already told us.”
“Oh, sorry.” Mom adjusted in her chair. “Wrong question. Who happened to your hand?”
“I told you.” I sighed like this was getting obnoxious. “Topher Adams happened to it.”
“Interesting.” Mom smirked. “That’s not what Billy said when he called to tell his side of things this afternoon.”
Crap.
“Busted,” Mom said triumphantly.
Dad stiffened. “Billy called you?”
“Yes, honey.” Mom rubbed his knuckles, which had just turned white from fisting his butter knife like a weapon. “You don’t need to worry. He’s not going to steal me away from you. Ever. I am all yours.”
“I know that,” Dad said possessively. “I just don’t know why that noob thinks he can call you in the first place.”
“Noob,” Sophie snorted. “Because he’s too scared to call you,” she said to Dad.
Mom turned to face Dad, slipping her fingers into his hair. Sophie and I groaned as their lips collided. Like always, they let it go on way too long, not caring one bit that watching your parents make out is the equivalent to drinking curdled milk straight from the carton.
“So, Billy must be really scared of you if he called to apologize,” Sophie said, trying to break up the kiss.
“Oh, he didn’t apologize.” Mom tapped her nose against Dad’s.
“Billy doesn’t know how to do that. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t planning to torch his house while he slept.
But I told him I liked Mindy too much for that.
” She sighed wistfully, like committing arson in connection to Billy would have to remain on her bucket list. For now.
“And he promised not to bill us for the stitches.”
“He can’t anyway,” I muttered. “He made—” I almost slipped up. “His med student do the honors.”
“Is that right?” Mom asked, eyes bright.
“That’s right,’ I said, jaw pulsing.
Mom’s brows bounced. “And what med student might that be?”
“I didn’t ask his name,” I said, low and agitated.
“His name?” Mom questioned, her eyes telling me she knew everything.
“That’s right,” I clipped. “His name. And why would I? He was boring and not attractive at all.”
Mom snickered. “Not attractive? Then why are the tips of your ears red?”
I covered my ears.
Sophie leaned away, looking at me like I was an alien. “Do you have a crush on a dude at Billy’s office?”
“Not funny,” I boomed.
Sophie snickered. “I mean, it’s kind of funny.”
“I’m not attracted to guys,” I hissed.
“He is most definitely attracted to girls,” Mom said. “One girl in particular.”
“MOM,” I nearly shouted.
“Your ears.” She pointed, her entire body shaking with laughter.