Page 70 of Mr. Frosty Pants
“What is going on with you and Joel Vreeland?” his mother asked, crossing her arms over his bosom. “I’m tired of making excuses to your father about where you are every night.”
“It’s only been two nights, and why haven’t you just told him I’ve been staying at Joel’s?”
“Why would I do that? It would upset him. He’s never liked that boy.”
“Because he thought my crush on him meant I was gay, which I am, and we all know it now, so what’s the problem?”
“Joel Vreeland’s not a good connection for you. Unlike Walker Ronson, who could take you far in life. Even if you’re not attracted to him—though how could you not be?—you should at least strive to be his friend. He’s the kind of man that will elevate you to the next echelon socially. If things really are over with Theo, then we should set our sights on something almost as good.”
“Deanna, for heaven’s sake, are you trying to force that boy to marry up?” Courtney’s laughing voice echoed around the kitchen, and when Casey turned around, she met his gaze with an eye roll. “He’s not even out of college. Give him a chance to live a little.”
“I would, honey. But he’s trying to kindle something that isn’t ever going to catch fire.”
“Mom, Joel is—”
“Joel Vreeland?” Courtney’s strawberry-blond brows arched up. “That sour-faced little boy who used to live behind you at the old house?”
“He’s still cranky,” Casey conceded. “But he’s grown up as much as I have. I wouldn’t call him little. And we’ve rekindled our friendship recently. For some reason, that bothers Mom.”
“Uh-huh,” Courtney said, glancing down at Casey’s chin. She shot him a knowing look and then turned to her sister. “Okay, don’t you need to get going?”
His mother cursed lightly when she glanced toward the clock on the microwave. “I’ll be back in plenty of time for the party. Don’t you two be late! Do you hear me? Jonathan will do his thunder god impression if Casey isn’t ready when the Ronsons get here.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Courtney said, tossing her hair and smiling sweetly. “Have a good time, Dee. Love you.”
As soon as the door out to the garage shut on his mother’s back, Courtney grabbed Casey’s hand. “Oh, wow. So, she hasn’t figured out that you’re totally hooking up with that crabby kid?”
“He’s twenty-two, like me.”
Her eyes glowed. “Did he grow up hot?”
“Aunt Courtney,” Casey scolded. “What are you getting at exactly?”
“Why are you being coy? I’m not stupid like my sister. You’ve spent the last two nights there. You’re not a child anymore. These haven’t been slumber parties. Your old friend Joel is queer as a two-dollar bill, and you’re tapping that.” She frowned. “Do the kids still say ‘tapping that’? Or do they say ‘getting it’? What do you say these days?”
Casey ignored her question. “I’m in love with him.” His heart giddy-upped in his chest, and a smile broke over his face. He knew he probably looked as silly as he felt, but love was an undeniable emotion.
“Ah! Well, Deanna will have to put her romantic machinations aside, won’t she?”
“How bad is it?”
“The Ronson heir is going to be here tonight. Apparently, you made a good impression on him when you last saw him.” She waggled her brows. “You’ve grown up to be a real man-killer.”
“Aunt Courtney… Stop.” Casey sighed.
“Why don’t you just tell your mother what’s really happening with you and this boy?”
“Because he’s not out. I shouldn’t have even told you.”
“You didn’t. I guessed.”
“But I think he’d come out if he was sure of us, or more sure of us. I’m trying to convince him that I’m serious and that this isn’t some kind of holiday fling. I invited him to the party tonight, as my date. As my boyfriend.”
She gasped. “Oh, my. I mean, yes, you should let your folks know you’re involved before they dig themselves deeper into this Ronson setup, but springing it on them at their Christmas party? With their friends and co-workers, and their boss and his son? Couldn’t you have just told them this morning? The drama that’s going to bring!”
“Don’t worry, he turned me down. Said there was no way in hell he was going to come to a party where everyone would look down their noses at him.”
“Smart kid.”
