Chapter Ten #2
“Business,” he says proudly, sitting up taller, like he can already see himself at the head of some boardroom. “Everything’s about negotiating and confidence. I’m ready to run the next Fortune 500 tomorrow if they’d let me.”
“You can talk yourself out of almost any situation. They might as well hand you your PhD now.”
“Right?” he says emphatically.
“No way.” I hear behind me. “I knew it. She’s so two-faced.” It’s a voice I’ve heard incessantly for weeks. And I still can’t seem to escape her.
“Don’t look,” Collin warns, setting his hand on mine. We know she’s talking about me.
I close my eyes and take a breath.
“She obviously can’t choose, so why not have both?” Bridget chimes in.
“Ignore them,” Collin soothes in a tone meant to calm me, the one he uses with Jonathan when tension arises.
“I’m fine,” I tell him because I am. I’m over trying to understand Laurel and why she’s so upset with me. She’s not my problem. “They’re not wrong. You are my stand-in date.” I laugh.
“Gee, thanks,” Collin quips. “I should be your first choice. I make you laugh more than he does.”
“Are you seriously comparing you and Jonathan right now?” I ask in amusement.
Collin catches himself. “Uh, no. No idea why I said that. Because I’m definitely not kissing you tonight. Actually, I’m making you pay for dinner.”
“Of course I’m paying,” I say, taking out my wallet. “Wanna go? I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Uh, I haven’t.” Collin stuffs his face with his cheeseburger.
“You can take it with you,” I tell him with a sigh. “That way, you can actually chew it.”
“Right,” he says with his mouth full. He takes a few napkins and wraps his burger in it as I stand to pay at the register.
“Hope you’re not leaving because of us,” Laurel calls out. “We were just saying how cute you two are together.”
“We are cute together,” Collin retorts. “And we’re also leaving because of you. You’ve ruined the mood.” He holds out his hand. “C’mon, Sadie. Let’s go somewhere we can be alone.” He winks at me.
I raise my brows, looking down at his hand. He silently urges me to take it. I roll my eyes and set my hand in his, letting him lead me out of the restaurant.
“That didn’t help,” I say when we reach the parking lot.
“Who cares? It was fun.”
Across the street is a colorfully painted Victorian house that’s been converted into a preschool. Lining the stone wall that wraps around the front yard are tiny pumpkins and gourds painted with faces.
“Collin!” I lift the smiley-faced pumpkin. “How could you?”
“You needed it more than they do,” he defends weakly. “Look how many they have! They’re not going to miss one.”
I shake my head at him in disapproval. “You stole from preschoolers! That’s a new low.” After letting a car pass, I cross the street and replace the stolen pumpkin.
“Now what should we do?” Collin asks when I return.
I’m tempted to say I want to go home to finish carving my pumpkin. But that will make me think of Jonathan and how we never got to finish our first date.
“I know,” Collin declares. “Let’s go back to my house.”
Might as well.
I drive Collin to the home where we pretty much spent most of our childhood.
It’s small but quaint. It’s a single-story house, painted light blue with white trim.
It could almost be called a cottage, except it has a finished basement.
It’s the perfect size for Collin and his mom with the added space for us to hang out without waking her.
Collin doesn’t go into the house. Instead, he jogs into the small garage that has never seen a car. A moment later, he emerges, holding up a skateboard.
“No way,” I proclaim. “I’m wearing a dress.”
“You can sit. Nothing to worry about.”
“You can’t ditch me,” I say in warning. “I can’t perform tomorrow night with bloody knees.”
“Promise,” he declares, setting a hand on his heart. He wheels out his bike with a length of rope tied under the seat.
My phone rings just as I pull into my driveway.
“I’m so sorry about tonight,” Jonathan says quietly, like he’s trying not to be heard. “I promise to make it up to you.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. Collin had dinner with me. And then you will never believe what we did.”
“What?” he asks in a whisper.
“We streeked.” The smile has been plastered on my face since I left his house.
“You did what?” Jonathan asked, like he didn’t hear me right.
“Street-skiing,” I say with a laugh. Collin decided to shorten it to streeking.
He thought it was hilarious. Tonight, it felt so freeing, being pulled around on that board, the wind in my hair, my heart racing with every swerve Collin made on his bike.
And he never ditched me. He was careful.
Can’t say the same when I tugged him around.
I didn’t mean to run him into the mailbox.
It’s just been too long since we’ve done it.
And the streetlight wasn’t working—I could barely see where he was behind me.
“It was so much fun. Although I almost knocked Collin out.”
I laugh again, picturing him rolling into the street to avoid the collision. Jonathan’s quiet.
“Sorry I missed it.”
“Me too.”