Page 8 of Always Yours

“Fuck yes.”

We spend the rest of the day fully clothed and lounging around Will’s apartment. It sure beats the hell out of the cramped dorm room I share with my roommate, and even though we’ve been snacking on microwave popcorn and pizza rolls, it also hands down beats the cafeteria food.

Our clothes ended up being toast, and after two washings the smell was still embedded into every fiber, stinking like hell. We tossed them and I borrowed a sweatshirt and a pair of socks and figured it would be enough to get me home.

By the time we decide to end our day together it’s almost eight p.m. and Will walks me out to my car. But as we approach it, both of us realize that leaving the windows open did nothing to dissipate the smell.

We’re about ten feet from the car when Will says, “I think your car is toast right along with our clothes.”

I scrub my hands over my face and wonder just how I’m going to get back to my dorm let alone explain this to my parents.

“My parents are going to kill me. Like seriously kill me. I’m glad we spent the day together because tomorrow I’m going to be dead.”

Right now, it’s five o’clock in California and the vineyard is probably just beginning to wind down for the day, so if I callnow, I might catch them just as they’re closing up. Hopefully they’ll be too busy to question me on what happened and just tell me what I need to do.

Will laughs, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. My head falls to his shoulder and I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. This is not the phone call I want to have with my parents during my first semester away at school.

“They’re not going to kill you,” Will says, guiding me away from the offending car and back up to his apartment. “Why don’t you call them from upstairs and then I’ll drive you home.”

“Okay,” I reply the defeat in my voice masking the tears I feel forming. I thought the whole incident this morning was a nightmare, but I’m pretty sure this phone call is going to top it.

I flop down on Will’s couch grabbing my cell phone from my purse and instead of calling my parents I call my sister.

It barely rings once when Lauren answers with a whiny, “What the hell, Ellen?” I roll my eyes already annoyed with her and this Aussie boy drama since I’m dealing with something far more serious. “I texted you like a million times yesterday and in the fucking middle of the night. Mom made me take the skinny version of Arnold Schwarzenegger to my school dance with me.” Her voice is high and loud and it takes everything in me not to bust out laughing.

“Dude, that’s Austria. Jack is from Australia. Two different geographical locations.”

“Stop correcting me and just listen,” she wails back. “All the girls at the dance were obsessed with him, and then he danced with that bitch Katy Miller and left me standing in the corner.”

“I thought you didn’t like him?” I shoot, knowing I’m pushing her buttons, but with my pending demise hot on my heels I better have some fun while I still have the chance.

“I don’t!” she yells and moans loudly into the receiver. “Maybe I do. I don’t know. Do you think he likes me?”

“Yes, Lauren. I do think he likes you, but if you keep being a shithead to him he’s going to hook up with Katy Miller, and from what you’ve said, she puts out. That’s a lot to compete with.”

“Ellen you aren’t helping and right now I hate you!” she screams, and Will widens his eyes at her shrill voice coming through the phone.

I slip my hand over the phone and whisper, “See I told you. Boy drama.”

Will smirks at me as if I didn’t just do the same thing a few hours ago. The stupid stressing over a boy and look how mine turned out. While I know it’s only been twelve hours since I met Will, things seem to be going better than most hook ups.

“Sorry, Lauren,” I say, placating her because I know the worst of this conversation is yet to come. “I do think Jack likes you. Just be nice to him. Maybe show him where we host weddings. You love the willow tree and the swing.” I suggest this to her in the hopes of calming her down so she can tell me if Mom and Dad are in a good mood.

“Okay,” she says after a few second pause, letting my words sink in and settling herself down.

“Is he cute?” I ask and Lauren giggles a little down the phone.

“Yeah, he is. But he’s skinny and wears glasses. Ugh…” she exhales hard. “I’m not having this conversation with you. It’s too embarrassing.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, and the conversation dies there.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Listen are Mom and Dad around? I need to talk to them, but if they’re crabby I’ll call back later.”

“Just Dad is here. You wanna talk to him?” she asks and before I can answer she’s calling out his name and I hear her feet plodding against the floor.

I hear her give out a muffled “It’s Ellen,” before my Dad’s cheerful voice comes on the line.

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