Page 142 of Something Rad
I open my mouth and then close it again. Because I don’t really know what it means. Not yet.But I suppose I can figure it out as I go?“Can I just ask you to trust me?”
Cooper studies me hesitantly, her eyes darting between mine. “If we do this…” she says, not addressing my question, “the same rules apply?”
“Same rules,” I agree.
“If either of us wants out at any time, we’re honest, and we end it,” Cooper says.
“Deal.”
“And?” she questions me.
“I won’t kiss you.”
She flattens her lips, her gaze flicking away. “And?”
“And I won’t make you look stupid.”
“Great,” Cooper nods, satisfied for now. “We’ve come to an agreement. Now, can we please go watch the rest ofDirty Dancing?”
My lips pull slowly into a smirk.
“Sure thing, baby.”
twenty-nine
SARA
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Robbie asks.
I slide out of the passenger seat of his Camaro, straightening my dress. “I’m sure, Robbie.”
He closes my door behind me, coming to walk by my side. He seems stiff, not like his normal self. I’m not sure if it’s the suit jacket he’s traded his usual Members Only jacket in for, or the way his usually tousled front strands of hair are slicked back with no chance of slipping into his line of sight, but he seems uncomfortable in his own skin. It’s as if he’s actually putting thought into how he looks and acts, and something tells me that’s not a daily activity for Robbie Summers.
“Really, Cooper, I mean, there’s still time to back out.”
“As we are actively walking to your front door? Only feet away?” I question him.
“If we’re not past the threshold that means we haven’t reached the point of no return,” he insists.
“Robbie,” I say gently, waiting for him to look at me. “We’ve made it this far. We are going to Thanksgiving with your family.”
The last six weeks have gone by in a blur. It felt so far away when I committed to helping Robbie through Thanksgiving, but, between him starting basketball and me being busier than ever with everything else going on in my life, we settled into an easy routine that made the weeks fly by.
Aside from a few basketball games that I was coerced into attending as aBleacher Babe(I don’t want to talk about it), and a Halloween party at the school that began with an argument over both Robbie and me unknowingly dressing as Tom Cruise’s character inRisky Business(don’t ask) and ended with a dance battle to Michael Jackson’sThrillerthat left me with a knot on my head and Robbie with a sprained ankle that kept him out of basketball practice for three days (you don’t want to know), we’ve managed to get by fairly civilly.
Well, as civilly as you could expect from us.
We’ve held hands in the hall and eaten lunch at the same table. I’ve maintained my work, extra curricular, and volunteer schedule as best I can while Robbie’s kept up with his basketball one, both of us compromising on one at least semi-public outing per week. I haven’t asked Robbie what’s going on with Denise, and he hasn’t told me. It’s worked. It’s been fine.
Completely and totallyfine.
“Really, it’s going to be fine,” I tell Robbie.
“You don’t know that–”
“I do,” I insist. “Because I’m saying it’s going to be fine. I’vedecidedit’s going to be. So it will be.”
Robbie's throat bobs and he turns his head away from me. “When the hell did you become the voice of reason out of the two of us, Cooper?”
