Page 92 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
“It makes me feel something, for sure,” Mateo says with a chuckle. “Why would you propose to a teacher?”
I fix my eyes on Brooklyn. “Because teachers are pretty awesome.”
I didn’t think she could go redder than she did before, but she does. Hopefully that means she understood my meaning, though it’s not like I’m planning on proposing to her. She would be worth it if I did.
“But you were in high school?” Mateo clearly wants to hear the full story.
Sighing, I nod and stretch my arm along the back of the booth behind Brooklyn, letting my fingers dangle almost within reach of her shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t really proposing.”
Brooklyn nudges into me, which ends up tucking her under my arm. If she notices, she doesn’t react. Or maybe she’s too red for me to tell. “I’m pretty sure the words ‘will you marry me’ came out of your mouth, and you had some pretty specific details you claimed to love about her.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “IthoughtI was helping her boyfriend with his proposal. From my understanding, there were going to be a bunch of us performing similar proposals until she got to the real thing.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Mateo says.
“It really doesn’t,” Brooklyn agrees, far too innocently. “Why would any man hire a bunch of high schoolers to propose for him?”
“He wouldn’t,” I answer. My hand slips down of its own volition, fingers brushing the bare skin of her arm.Stay focused, Jordan.“Because Miss Henderson wasn’t even dating anyone at the time.”
“What do you mean?” Mateo says.
“Someoneconvinced me it was real so she could take a video to use as leverage someday, only she didn’t count on Miss Henderson freaking out and calling the school cop.”
Brooklyn cringes. “Did I ever tell you I was sorry for that? In my defense, that was after you announced my birthday to the whole school during school announcements, so I was feeling vindictive.”
“I announcedHouston’sbirthday. Not yours.”
“We’re twins, doofus. People naturally connected the dots.”
“I got detention for commandeering the microphone,” I remind her, “so I really didn’t need payback.”
“You really did. Three different freshmen tried to buy me lunch that day and ended up blocking the lunch line for ten minutes while they argued and trapped me there.”
“Oh no! Free lunch! The horror.”
“Says the guy who wouldn’t ever let Houston pay for his food.”
“I could afford my own lunch, thank you very much.”
“So could I.”
“Ahem.”
We both turn to face Mateo, who is now standing next to a wide-eyed Charlie by the booth.
“I’m going to get my food to go,” Mateo says, looking between the two of us as if he thinks we’re a lost cause. I don’t know what the cause is, but it’s most assuredly lost. “Miss Briggs, you’re pretty cool.”
“Wait!” She tries to stand up, but there’s the minor problem of the bolted-down table and my arm fully around her shoulders now, which means her stilted movement makes her lose her balance and throw her hands out to catch herself. One slams into the wall, and the other slams right into my lap. Specifically the crotch area.
I go down, folding in half like an ironing board as the pain momentarily overwhelms my senses. I’m vaguely aware of water spilling over the table edge and into my lap—blessed, cool relief—while laughter rings out above me. Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s Mateo or Charlie. Maybe both.
“OhmygoshIamsosorry.” Brooklyn scrambles for napkins and starts throwing them at me.
I slowly sit back up, though I keep my hands in my lap to safeguard my assets from further damage as she flails her hands around. “Does this mean I’m going to get you as my nurse for the rest of the weekend?” My voice may be higher in pitch than normal, but I don’t care. I’m going to tease her about this for the rest of her life.
Bright scarlet again, Brooklyn seems to debate something as she gazes at me with a handful of crumpled napkins. “I suppose that’s only fair,” she says. “But I’m not massaging anything. Oh!”
I snort into laughter at the same time as Mateo, while Brooklyn looks like she wants the world to swallow her up after her accidental innuendo. She drops her face into her hands with a groan. This has been the strangest breakfast of my life, but I don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.
