Page 71 of The Friend Scheme
This is new territory. Us, talking about my dating life. Not that I had one before. Plus, I’m not sure how much he actually knows about this stuff and how much is just bravado. For all of Luke’s ways, he’s never actually had a girlfriend. He’s had plenty, and Imeanplenty, of hookups, sure, but nothing serious or long-term. I’ve always assumed he doesn’t want that.
But right now I sort of get a vibe from him. He seems jealous.
“A dance is a big deal, man,” he says. “Even you must know that.”
“I already said, it’s just a friend thing. She doesn’t… you know. See me like that. At least I don’t think she does.”
“Oh,” he says. “But it’s more for you?”
I mean. I guess it is. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m not sure that’s a normal friend thing.
“I dunno.”
“Dude, you’re a Miller. Don’t forget that. Just be brave and go for it.”
“That’s hard, though. I think I might be in the friend zone.”
“I know. But trust me, it’s worth it. You’ve got this. Anyone would be lucky to get with you. We own this city, remember? Just don’t say that to her. Trust me, it doesn’t go down well. And don’t sayfriend zoneagain, it’s a pathetic, sexist concept.”
I mean, agreed.
“Thanks. My pep is officially rallied.”
“Good. But, hey, you’re being careful, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Given the scheme and everything, are you sure it’s a good idea to be hanging out with her?”
“Are you going to stop hanging out with girls?”
He chuckles. “Touché. Last thing, then I’ll go. This is going to be awkward, but, do you need condoms?”
He’s right.
It’s so incredibly awkward.
“I have some. Thanks, though.”
That’s actually true. When I turned fourteen Dad bought me a box and explained that he doesn’t expect me to need them, but he said I should use them if the situation ever came up. He’s given me a new box every year, usually around my birthday.
It feels like the one good bit of parenting he’s ever done.
“Cool,” he says. “Take some just in case, and if you get lucky, you better use one. I don’t care what she says, or how much you don’t want to, you use one, okay? Trust me, you don’t want the stress.”
“Noted.”
“And, hey,” he says, smiling proudly, “have a good time tonight, you little Romeo.”
I start blushing, and not just because of the condom talk.
Me, a Romeo? Since when?
But maybe it’s not so out of place.
Plus, I love this. Normally I’m the one who stays at home when Luke goes out.
“Thanks.”
