Page 80 of The Disasters of Dating
I stare into the mirror. Is that why she turns down most of my jewelry offers? Because I won’t let her pay me for them? “If that makes you feel better. But it isn’t necessary.”
She glances back at me. “But if you use your beads to make me something, you can’t use them to make something to sell in your Etsy shop. I know you need that money for school. So I hate to take inventory away from you.”
I sigh, but then sidle up beside her and sling my arm around her shoulders. “If I couldn’t afford to do it, I wouldn’t.”
She snorts. “You’re such a liar. You would give it to me for free, even if it meant you had to eat Ramen for the next month.”
I raise a brow at her. “Okay, maybe I would. But it’s because I love you. You’re my bestie. My ride or die.”
“Speaking of ride or die…” She looks back at her reflection. “How was your hike?” She asks, and I know it’s probably been killing her to wait this long before asking.
“It was good,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “Poppy Alice Ashcombe, don’t you purposely be vague with me! You just said I was your ride or die. That means you don’t keep date details a secret!”
I laugh and hold up my hands in front of me. “Okay. Sorry.” I put the necklace on my desk, making a mental note to make one for Pais. “It was good. We went to Silver Lake and then hiked over to Lake Solitude. We talked a lot and held hands.”
Paisleigh stills. “You like him, huh?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I bite my bottom lip. “I mean, he’s sweet and kind. And I like spending time with him.”
She tilts her head. “The hike was that good?”
I grimace. “The hike…La Vie En Fromage and Spoons for ice cream. And…”
“And?” she asks.
“And then I asked him to go to the U football game with me on Thursday night.” I grin and look up at her from beneath my lashes. “Idolike spending time with him. And he’s rather aesthetically aggressive.”
Paisleigh’s eyes widen. “How aggressive?”
“Chris Pine aggressive.”
She gives me a little shove. “Shut up. Why have you been hiding this from me?”
“I haven’t been hiding it. I just don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere. Why get everyone in my life involved if it’s a fling?”
Her head tilts to the side. “Why wouldn’t it go anywhere? Doesn’t he seem interested? Is he a player?”
I’m not sure how to explain it. Paisleigh will wave it away if I say something feels off.
“I think he’s interested,” I sigh. “It’s a me thing. I need to figure a few things out, you know?”
Paisleigh looks at me. “I know it’s not my place to say, but I think you’re afraid of commitment.”
“What?” My mouth drops open. “How can you say that? I’m one of the most open people I know. I’m completely open to whatever the universe puts in front of me.”
She raises a brow. “I think you use the universe as an excuse more than being open to it. If anything goes wrong, you claim it’s the universe telling you not to move forward.” She looks at me with her beyond-her-years stare. “Sometimes, things go wrong, Pops, and it has nothing to do with the universe. It just happens.”
I’m not sure how to respond. Could the universe not have beensteering me away from Keaton at our first dinner? “I am too open. The universe told me not to see Keaton again, but I still have. Four times last week.” I look away from her. “Which reminds me…can we maybe push our movie night back to Thursday?”
Paisleigh slowly straightens and stares at me. “Suurrre.” She stretches the word out. “What’s up?”
I lift a shoulder. “Well, I may have a date on Wednesday, but I won’t know until later this week. But I don’t want to tie up your week. So if we reschedule for Thursday, it will be our last carefree evening before school starts.”
“So, you have plans with him this week?” She pushes the clothes to the side and plunks down on my bed, pulling her legs up underneath her as she grabs a pillow and hugs it to her. “I’m proud of you. You’re not pushing him off, even though you’re not sure about things. Good for you.”
“We’re going for ice cream on Monday night. And then to a laser show at the planetarium on Tuesday.” I sit on the other side of the bed and lean back against the headboard, hugging Randy the Raccoon—the huge stuffed animal my dad won me at the Welcome Back Carnival just before he died—to my chest. “I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to string him along, but I also don’t want to end things yet.”
