Page 96 of Let's Get Textual

“I was going to tell them you’re my goat baby momma, but I don’t know if they’d find that as funny as I would.”

“No, I doubt they would, you weirdo.” I glance back at the still sleeping goat. “Speaking of…are we taking Marshy? Where do your parents even live? I need to prepare if this is a long-ass road trip. How long will we be gone? Should I shave my legs? Should I pack an extra razor?”

Zach grabs my shoulder and gives me a shake. “Breathe, please.”

“I can’t!”

“You can! They live two hours north of here. Yes, please shave your legs—they’re disgustingly hairy.” I playfully slap his shoulder. “Marshy is coming. My mom can’t wait to meet him. And we can stay up there as long as you want. I usually drive up Thanksgiving morning and stay until Sunday afternoon. I do have to work until 3 on Wednesday, but after that, I’m free.”

“Okay, you’ll have to remind me of all that before we leave, because I’ll be honest, I may even forget who you are these next few days. My professors are being dicks and I have three tests to take before break.”

“I don’t miss those days one bit,” Zach remarks.

“I already don’t miss them, but only just over one more semester left. Then I’m free. I have no idea what I’m doing after that, but I’ll still be free, and that’s all that counts.”

“You really don’t have a single clue?”

“Welllll…” I draw out. “I do, but I don’t want to put all my eggs in that basket. I’d really like to procure a spot in a smaller company, one that’s still growing, maybe even something freelance? I have no clue yet.”

“If you want…” he starts before pausing, considering what to say next.

“If I want what?”

“I haven’t talked much about this with anyone other than Robbie, but I’m thinking about expanding my Embody Positivity movement…like making it a full-fledged company. I’ll need someone to help with the website and keeping the blog and press stuff up to date. Would that be something you’re interested in?”

I stare at him, blinking a few times, trying to process what he just said.

“Is this because we’re fucking?”

“Um…no. It’s because of the way you looked at me when I talked about the project and showed you the app. Figured you might want to be included somehow.” He holds his hands up. “If I’ve offended you with my offer, I’m sorry.”

Well I’m a total bitch.

I groan. “No, no. I was being stupid. I assumed you only offered because I sound desperate to figure out my life after college and you felt obligated because we’re screwing.”

“Stop saying it like that. You make me sound like a cheap whore.”

I lean over the seat and whisper into his ear, “We’re fucking, Zach.”

He turns his head my way, his mossy eyes colliding with mine. His stare is hard, serious. I get lost in the sincerity of them.

“We’redating, Delia. That’s a whole lot more than fucking.”

His words hit me like a wave during a hurricane. They’re enough to knock me down and take my breath away.

“Do you get it now, Delia?”

I swallow thickly and nod. “I get it, Zach.”

Seventeen

Me: Zoe’s mad at you.

Zach: What did I do that I didn’t know I did?

Me: You apparently ate her cupcake.

Me: And that sounded WAY worse than I intended.

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