Chapter 12 #3
She hesitated for a second, then reached out to put a hand to my knee. I was so bewildered by the gesture that I didn’t even shove her off, I just stared at it in confusion.
“Honey,” she said and immediately, I knew this was going to turn into a terrible life lesson moment, “sometimes when you have lots of siblings, it can be easy to fall back on them as your only friends.”
I openly stared at her, not sure how to even begin responding to that. It was a bold assumption to make that I had no friends, especially since she’d never even seen me with my siblings or met any of them. For all she knew, we all hated each other.
I shoved her hand off my knee.
“I have plenty of friends,” I said coolly. “I just don’t need a boyfriend.”
“That’s not the point,” she said. “You don’t have to marry him. It’s just a date.”
“I know what a date is.”
She smiled, tight. “Then you know it’s not that serious.”
“Exactly,” I said. “So it doesn’t matter that I said no.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly recalibrating. “Sweetheart, sometimes you have to push past discomfort. You can’t just avoid things because they’re awkward.”
“I’m not avoiding it because it’s awkward,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m avoiding it because I don’t want to.”
My dad shifted beside her. “If she doesn’t want to go—”
Hilary shook her head. “You don’t understand. This is how girls end up isolated. If you turn people down, they stop asking. And then suddenly you’re left out, and you don’t even know why.”
I laughed, short and humorless. “I think I’ll survive.”
“Well,” she said finally, “you don’t always know what’s good for you in the moment.”
My dad shifted beside her. “Hilary—”
She lifted a hand without looking at him. “I’m not being mean. I just think this is one of those things you’ll thank yourself for later.”
“I won’t,” I said.
She smiled again, that same tight curve of her mouth. “You don’t know that.”
I looked back at the TV, at the actors frozen mid-expression. “Can we just watch this?”
“We can,” she said. “After we finish talking.”
I glanced at my dad. He was staring at the TV now, jaw tight like if he didn’t look at either of us, this might resolve itself.
I stood up. “I’m getting dessert.”
Hilary’s face brightened like I’d made a good decision. “That’s a great idea. I’ll come with you.”
Please don’t, I wanted to yell. But I wasn’t like that. She was important to my dad, so I would be nice.
“But be careful not to eat too much,” she said, following me. “It is kind of late.”
I ignored the suggestion as I walked into the kitchen. The freezer opened with a hollow groan. I pulled the ice cream from the freezer and scooped mechanically, listening to her continue behind me.
“You know, dating is a skill. Communication, boundaries, confidence. It’s better to start now when the stakes are low.”
I still didn’t look up as I purposefully dropped another scoop into the bowl. Normally, I would have stopped at two scoops, but just because of her comment about it being late, I added a third.
She watched me take a bite, then sighed. “I just don’t want you closing yourself off. That’s how girls get labeled.”
“Labeled as what?”
She hesitated. “Difficult. Cold.”
I swallowed. “I don’t care.”
“You say that now,” she said gently. “But you will.”
I leaned against the counter, ice cream melting too fast in the bowl. My phone buzzed in my hand—another text from Mitch, probably. I didn’t check, but Hilary’s eyes dropped to it.
“You should call him back,” she said.
“No.”
She tilted her head. “Just hear him out.”
“I already did.”
“Tell him you changed your mind.”
“I didn’t.”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice like we were sharing a secret. “It’s one date. An hour, maybe two. You can leave early if it’s terrible.”
I looked down at my ice cream. It had lost its shape, gone soft around the edges. I felt the same way. Dad appeared in the doorway. “Maybe we should drop it.”
Hilary didn’t look at him. “She’s almost sixteen. She needs guidance.”
I felt something sink in my chest. Almost sixteen. Not old enough to decide for myself or to be left alone. My phone buzzed again.
Hilary glanced at it, then back at me. “Just call him. You’ll feel better once it’s done.”
I stared at the screen for a long second. I wouldn’t feel better, I could say that much. If I went on a date with him, it would be horrible and awkward. But if she was going to turn it into such a big deal…
I unlocked the phone and opened my message thread with Mitch.
Like I thought, there were three new messages from him, pretty much all saying the same thing: he still wanted to go out with me and he didn’t care what that jerk from the coffee shop thought of it.
The words made my stomach twist, having the exact opposite effect that I was sure they were supposed to, but I ignored the feeling as I typed a response.
Imogen
Fine. I’m free on Saturday.
I slammed the phone back onto the counter and stormed off to the living room. Hilary followed me undeterred and smiled. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
I mentally flipped her off.