Page 94 of Pucking Matt
“No,” she replies, and I glance over at her. “Matt, I can tell something’s wrong.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” I ask. “It’s just shit with my mom. She’s been hiding something from me.”
“And that hurts?” she asks, hesitating.
“It’s annoying, but I guess I should be used to it. It’s nothing new.”
“And I’m your distraction?”
Shit, that’s where she was going with this? I swear that I didn’t mean it in the way she’s making it out to be. She is a great distraction, but I like being around her. Everything’s a fucking challenge with her. I don’t think anyone has given me as much shit as Amber has. But the difference between anyone and her is that her hatred, her tone, her friendliness is all honest. She’s real, and in a world of status, braggers, and users, I appreciate it.
“Yes,” I say, and I don’t know if I’ll regret it later. Her face expression softens, so I ask, “Is that a problem?”
She’s staring forward, taking too long to answer. And then she says, “You’re taking me to Crumbl?”
I nod as a smile breaks on her face.
She says, “You…” Her brown eyes gleam as she watches me. “Do you know that cookies are my favorite thing in the world?”
“Well after you mentioned that you were more obsessed with cookies than with me, I figured you loved cookies.”
“Good guess, Pearson. I’m impressed.”
“You’re impressed?” I ask, making a funny face. Out of all the things to be impressed by, it’s this?
She shrugs. “Attention to detail, remembering small things. It’s–”
“I’m not mindless,” I say, glancing over at her. “You think I’m just an idiot?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
I shake my head while she laughs at me.
“Sometimes,” she says.
I pull into a parking stall and say, “Wait here.”
She folds her arms as I step out of the truck and open the door for her.
“You’re lucky that I’m very excited about these cookies.”
“I’m lucky?” I scoff.
She nods. “Yeah, otherwise, I wouldn’t respect you enough to wait for you to open my door. You know that I can open my own door, right? I feel like it’s very inconvenient for you.”
I take note that I have to keep opening the door for her to mess with her. If I listen to her, she won’t respect me. I need to keep gaining this respect. The glow on her face tells me that I’m on track.
Crumbl smells like heaven when we walk in.
Amber says, “This is my favorite smell.”
I don’t bother to read the specials of the week like Amber is. I get in line and wait to be called. Amber walks up next to me and says, “I want to get a regular chocolate chip and I’ll try the confetti.”
“You are cute,” I say sarcastically, but by the shock on her face, she didn’t take it that way, so I test her boundary and put an arm around her. She’s being generous. “Relax. I’m going to get you more than two cookies.”
“Two is all I can handle,” she says under my arm. I remove it just as quickly as I did it.
“I don’t believe that.”
