Page 8 of Pick Me
“Me, too,” Aiden piped up from my right, reaching for a second burger, even though he still had half of his first one in his chubby hand which, frankly, was the correct and smart way of doing shit when you shared a table with a bunch of guys who were bigger and hungrier than you.
I stretched out a fist for a bump, but he bumped me back with his elbow rather than surrender either of his burgers, and I covered my laugh with a cough.
Webb took a giant bite of his burger and groaned happily. “God, that’s good. Remind me why you don’t cook every night, Ems? We’d pay you.”
“Because conforming to some patriarchal expectation that I, as the only female in this household, should shoulder more of the responsibility for cooking, cleaning, and caretaking, would be massively unfair to all ofyou,who deserve to achieve self-actualization, and part of that is learning to make food that doesn’t suck.” She grinned and flipped her long hair again. “Also, I’m student body president, captain of the girls’ lacrosse team, and I work the orchard on the weekends all fall. Truth is, you couldn’t afford me, Webb.”
“That’s my girl,” Drew said proudly.
“Oooh,” Hawk laughed. “Tell him, sis.”
I lifted my water glass. “From one youngest sibling to another, I salute you.”
Emma winked down the table at me before her gaze turned speculative. “So, Gage,” she began in a carefully neutral voice.
“Oh, jeez,” Hawk said under his breath.
“Beware,” Webb mumbled.
“Nonsense,” Emma sniffed innocently. But even after two weeks, I knew their warnings were correct. Emma Sunday was two hundred pounds of persuasion crammed into a five-foot, hundred-pound package, and she proved it when she continued. “I was just thinking you might like to come to the fundraising auction dance with us tomorrow night. It’s being put on by the Averill Union Athletic Association to raise money to cover sports fees at the high school.” Her big green eyes—the same eyes all the Sundays at the table besides Hawk had—went wide and limpid. “Youdowant to help underprivileged children, don’t you?”
“Er.” Red flags were popping up all over the place. “Isn’t tomorrow night a school night?”
“Nope! The high school is off Thursday and Friday for teacher in-service days.” She beamed, smelling blood in the water.
“Oh. Um. What do I have to do?”
“Show up,” Emma replied promptly. “That’s all. Dance a little, the same way the other guys will.” She smiled innocently. “Be your usual charming self.”
Knox snickered, and I tossed the lumberjack look-alike a dirty look. I was charming! I could contribute! I coulddance.
“Sure,” I said easily. “I’d be happy to. I mean…” I hesitated. “It’s not a party for high school kids, is it?”
“No way,” she assured me. “Half of the Hollow will be there, along with half of Two Rivers, and probably all of Keltyville—all the towns that send their kids to Averill Union. Webb’s going. Knox said he might come. And Hawk is coming, too, aren’t you, Hawk?”
“I said maybe.” Hawk spoke to his plate. “I’m not good at… you know. All that stuff.”
Aw. My brother Beale hated socializing, too.
“If you go, I’ll go, too, and we can stick together since I won’t know anyone but you guys,” I offered.
Hawk’s gaze flew to mine, and I felt the weight of Knox’s stare on me, as well.
“There’ll be lots of pretty girls there,” Drew observed apropos of nothing.
Hawk frowned. “I’m gay, Uncle Drew.”
“I’m well aware, Hawk,” Drew confirmed gently. “I’m just mentioning it in case Gage is interested.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I shrugged and smiled. “But I’m not. At all.”
Drew smirked down at his burger, like he wasn’t surprised to hear it.
“If Gage and Uncle Hawk are going, I’m going also,” Aiden announced, licking burger juice off the side of his hand. I picked up his napkin and casually handed it to him. “My teacher Mr. Williams says boys can dance.”
“They can, for sure, but you’re not coming this time, bub,” Webb said. “You’re staying home with Uncle Drew.”
Aiden looked like he might argue, but Drew cut in. “My ankle’s still awful sore, so I need a babysitter, and Marco tries, but he doesn’t know how to make Sunday Sundaes the right way. He always gets the ratio of peanut butter to pretzels and chocolate sauce wrong.” He shook his head sadly. “I’ve only taught my secret recipe toyou.”
