chapter eleven Inevitable Impending Doom
chapter eleven
Inevitable Impending Doom
Winston is already at the top of the stairs, scratching at the door and barking for me to let Lex in. I’m still in my sweatpants
with my hair half-curled for my next date, but Lex knows I’m not ready to go yet. The last few dates she’s joined me for the
getting-ready process, and it’s almost as much fun as our post-date recap.
“I’ve told you a million times to just come in,” I say as I swing the door open, but my words get stuck somewhere mid-sentence
as my eyes alight on her face. “Did you get a new haircut?”
Lex touches the strands of her new pixie cut as her face turns pink. “Yeah. Do you like it?”
It’s unexpectedly short—much shorter than before. Her brown hair is tousled and styled with gel, giving me full view of her
slender neck, the line of her clavicles, and the rise of her shoulders. Not to mention, she used to hide behind her hair,
and now her gorgeous features are on full display. It suits her perfectly.
“I love it!” I squeal, grabbing her by the shoulders and drawing her in for a hug as Winston dances around our feet. After a surprised second she hugs me back, squeezing tightly. “And you smell good,” I say, inhaling the honey scent of her shampoo.
“Stop,” she chastises as she pulls away, her dimples betraying her smile. Lex tugs at her clothes, righting them now that
Winston’s interest has switched from greeting his guest to peeing seventeen times in the yard. She’s wearing olive green trousers
with a brown belt, a white T-shirt tucked loosely into her pants, and high-top sneakers cleaned and shined for the occasion.
“Damn, girl, you look so good!” I’d make her twirl if I didn’t think she’d kill me for it.
Lex rolls her eyes, swatting at me. “Can I come in now, please?”
I call Winston inside and the three of us descend the stairs and go into the bedroom. Lex makes herself comfortable reclining
on my bed with Winston, who brought his Bugs Bunny to chew. After grabbing us a drink I settle back in to finish my hair.
“How many dates is this?” I ask.
Lex pulls her notebook from her bag and flips through the pages. “This makes thirteen.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Are you sure this is a good idea? The curse plus an unlucky number is stacking the odds into dangerous territory.”
“Unlucky numbers aren’t real, just like curses aren’t real,” Lex says with a smile, which falters. “But I shouldn’t have told
you. It might affect the outcome.”
I groan. “I have zero control over what goes on. You know that. Just admit it.”
“I’ll admit no such thing,” Lex says with a smirk, followed by a yawn.
“You okay?” I ask, eyeing her through the mirror.
“Yeah, just tired.”
“What’s going on?” I turn in my seat, letting my curling iron rest for a moment.
“Gabe’s new school has this summer program thing I signed him up for. I thought it would be a good idea to get him in there
early so he can get used to the place. He struggles with change.” Lex strokes Winston’s fluffy grey fur as she talks. “They’re
performing The Sound of Music, and he loves that sort of thing. Chicago is one of his favourite movies.”
I chuckle. “Wait, how old is he?”
“Just turned seven in May.”
“Bold choice of favourite film.”
Lex blushes. “I know he’s a bit young for it, but he walked in on me watching it one night and was entranced. I just skip
through the spicy parts.”
“Hey, no judgment here. My favourite movie in kindergarten was Austin Powers,” I laugh. “He sounds like a cool kid.”
“Thank you. He is.” Lex smiles. “He loves musicals, so I thought it’d be perfect for him, but I think Gabe’s reading into
his part a bit differently than intended.”
“How so?”
She raises a brow. “I’m not sure if Kurt von Trapp was meant to have multicoloured eyeshadow, but Gabe is insisting he learn
how to do it so his eyes ‘pop for the performance,’ as he says.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Honestly, your kid sounds awesome.”
Lex glows from my compliment. “He is. But he’s been keeping me up obsessing over his lines, and practising his parts in all
the songs. Usually, an older kid plays Kurt but there aren’t that many boys in the program, and he’s always been a bit of
a keener. On top of all that he’s trying to learn how to do makeup and he gets super upset when it doesn’t turn out like in
the YouTube tutorials he’s watching. I’m really out of my element—I’m not much of a makeup person.”
“Well, I’m happy to help! I can show him some tips and tricks, if that’s okay with you?”
She straightens, hand pausing on Winston mid–belly rub. “You’d do that?”
I shrug. “Of course!”
Lex smiles so genuinely at me through the mirror it makes my chest squeeze. Fuck, I love it when she smiles for real. Before she can protest, I whip my phone up in selfie mode and snap a picture of the two of us—her on my bed with Winston
and that gorgeous smile of hers, me in the foreground making a dumb face and sticking out my tongue.
“Hey now!” she complains, blocking her face a second too late.
“Got ya!” I giggle.
Lex throws a pillow at me, which knocks my curling iron off my vanity and onto my lap. I squeal as I jump up from my seat,
trip over my stool, and land in a heap at the foot of my bed. Winston leaps into action, barking and snuffling, and lands
right on top of me, rescuing me with gingivitis licks.
“Shit, sorry!” Lex climbs off the bed and pulls Winston away. “Are you burned?”
I sit up and place my curling iron back on my vanity before it can set anything on fire, then inspect my leg. “I think I’m
okay.”
“You’re all red,” Lex tsks, eyeing the mark on my thigh. “Wait here.”
She grabs her bag from the bed and pulls some ointment and a Band-Aid out of it.
“Damn, girl, did you steal that thing from Mary Poppins?” I joke. Is there anything she doesn’t have in there?
Lex smirks but doesn’t reply, focusing on my leg.
She peels the paper off the bandage and squeezes a drop of clear goop onto it before carefully applying it to my inner thigh.
I can’t help the slight gasp that escapes my lips as the coolness of the goop paired with the gentle pressure of her fingertips sends a tingling rush across my skin.
I look from my leg to Lex, meeting her gaze.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice low as her eyes search mine.
I manage to nod. Force myself to swallow. Then I slap her on the arm and say, “’Tis but a flesh wound.”
Lex’s dimples pop as she rolls her eyes. It’s only when she stands that I realize her hand had been resting on my leg, and
the sudden absence of her touch makes me shiver.
“Come on, we’re going to be late,” she says, reaching for my hand and pulling me to stand.
After finishing my hair the two of us hop in her Subaru. I crank the radio and sing along to an old Maroon Five song as Lex
tolerates my terrible pitch all the way to Hayward Lake. It’s such a gorgeous, sunny summer day, and the picnic area is so
pretty it has me wishing I could skip the date so Lex and I could enjoy it without the curse looming over us.
Lex rolls down the windows and sets herself up to spy with her binoculars.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ditch and get some food?” I ask.
Lex twists in her seat to face me. “Don’t worry. It’s only a picnic. Just . . . don’t go near the water. Maybe don’t go into
the porta-potty. And don’t eat anything.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t eat anything on a picnic?”
“Avoid deli meats and soft cheeses, at least. We’ll grab something after. Okay?”
“Okay. Cheeseburgers?”
She nods solemnly. “Cheeseburgers.”
I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right here the whole time.” Lex shifts in her seat, looks around, and then points to a shady tree just past the parking lot. “Actually, I’ll be over there. It’ll to get too hot in here.”
Lex and I leave her car and separate, me toward the water where Lex had texted my date to meet, and Lex to her shady tree.
As soon as I’m out of range I call Lex and pop my AirPod into my ear, concealing it with a wave of hair. “Mic check. One,
two,” I say, glancing back at Lex.
She touches her own AirPod and nods. “Roger.”
Good. No cringey dialogue will be missed. I’m glad we started doing this; having Lex both physically close and listening to
every word makes me feel so much safer.
The sun is bright and warm, the cool breeze off the lake smells like pine and fresh water, and the call of birds melds with
the low hum of other picnickers enjoying their afternoon. I wait by the water, relishing the sun on my face, and prepare for
my day to take a one-eighty and go right down the shitter. My peace is disrupted by the noise of a very fancy red car as it
pulls up and parks. I don’t recognize the brand—there’s some sort of swoopy half-moon logo on it. The car parks and idles
for much longer than it should, with everyone in the park turning to gawk at the expensive monstrosity.
A moment later the engine shuts off, the door opens upward, and out climbs a very well-dressed guy with glittering gold sunglasses
and shiny black shoes. He walks—no, saunters—over to where I am. Oy vey.
“Nice to meet you, Aubrey,” he says as he extends his hand, adorned with multiple rings and a gold watch accentuating his
dark brown skin—which, I discover as we shake, is super soft. Would it be weird to ask what moisturizer he uses?
“You, too! That’s a very fancy car you have there,” I comment, looking over his shoulder. A few bystanders have gathered,
taking pictures and posing with peace fingers. “What, um . . . breed is it?”
Fancy Car Guy fits me with a quizzical look before looking over his shoulder at his prized possession. “It’s a McLaren.”
Explains why I didn’t recognize the badge. “Never seen one before.”
“That a fact?” He says it like he knew I probably haven’t seen one. This must be his schtick, relying on his cool car to flash
his wealth and woo his dates. “Want to take a spin?”
Lex’s voice is sharp in my ear. “Do not get in the stranger’s car.”
“No, thanks. Maybe next time.” There probably won’t be a next time. “How about that picnic?”
Fancy Car Guy shrugs. “I didn’t actually bring any food.”