Page 102 of I Wanna Text You Up

“Handsonthewheel!”

“—and now she won’t stop,” he continues. “Also, hi Caleb. I’m Rafe, the better half of thisduo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Better HalfRafe.”

My dad grins. “I feel like I should ask you something normal, like what’s your major? Isn’t that what dads are supposed to ask boyfriends,Sofia?”

“Sure.”

“I’m majoring in sports nutrition, sir. I’m vying for a position with the team at the university and am hoping to get on board with them then eventually work my way up to a head coachingposition.”

“I’d say you’re doing well with sportsnutrition.”

“Sofia! Leave the kid alone!” my dadadmonishes.

“I’m just saying, looks like he’s ingreatshape.”

I stand there with my jaw slack, completely mortified by my mother’sbehavior.

“Thank you, Sofia,” Caleb says with asmirk.

“PEACHES!” my dadshouts.

“RAFE!”

And the call goesblack.

I stare at the screen, confused ashell.

“Peaches?” Calebenquires.

“Yeah, not sure what that’s about. Let’s try to find the key though. There was a break-in up the road not too long ago and they’ve changed the locks since I was herelast.”

We look under the mat, inside the potted plant sitting next to the door, in the ones hanging on the porch…nothing.

“What about a barbeque pit?” Calebsuggests.

“Good thinking. Let’s go aroundback.”

I lead Caleb around the back of the house and hear him whistle when it comes intoview.

“Holy hell. This isnice,Zoe.”

“Isn’t it? My dad takes a lot of pride in it. He’s a contractor, designed and built this whole thinghimself.”

There’s an extravagant circle deck coming off the back of the house with a built-in fire pit in the center and a fancy schmancy patio couch and chair surrounding it. A large stainless steel barbeque pit sits off to the side with a stone wall encasingit.

Just then my phone rings—another FaceTime call fromMom.

“Oh my gosh, your father is a mess!” she says once her face fills the screen. “He about ran us off the road trying to get to the roadside peachstand.”

She holds the phone out and there’s Dad, holding up a big bag of peaches with a cheeky grin on his face. “It’s official—I’m movin’ to the country. Got me some peaches toeat!”

“Is your entire family into 90s music?” Caleb says, knowing my dad is referring to the ever-popularPeachesby The Presidents of the United States ofAmerica.

“Guilty as charged, dear,” my mom answers. “Is she still listening to that rapmusic?”

“She is,ma’am.”

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