Page 229 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“That’s what I thought,” I mumble at the empty bed. “Ugh, you’re kidding.”
Covered in ginger fur, my black beanie is crumpled on my bed cover. I pick it up and shake off the fur. “This isn’t your bed, Alfred.”
I slip the beanie on, change into a dark pair of jeans, which surprisingly have no rips. Over a fresh T-shirt, I pull on a navy crewneck sweater, and cover it with the black jacket Mom bought me at the start of winter.
I slip past my family on my way to the garage. I haven’t told them where I’m going. If I said I’m watching the football game, they’d assume I’m lying and going to hang out at Dead Left Cliff in the mountains. Actually, not a bad cover for if Dr. Jones pummels me for standing two-feet from his daughter.
Tabby texted me where she’s waiting near the bleachers. I find her in a lilac coat, wearing a stylishly high ponytail, and large hoop earrings that are extra sexy. As I get closer, the glitter on her eyelids has my heart zinging before I’m smiling at the heart painted on her cheek. It’s half royal blue, and half navy. Our school colors.
“Wow, you look incredible,” I say, scooping her into a hug.
“Thanks,” she says, tightening her arms around me. “You look so handsome.”
I chuckle into the nape of her neck. “I do?”
“All but the beanie,” she kids.
I pull out of the hug, savoring her floral perfume. “But does the rest pass the style queen’s approval?”
“Yes.” She knocks on my chest. “Official seal of approval.”
“Excellent. I never wear these clothes and figured I’d be safe from tears and stains.”
“Good call. My parents like sharp dressers.”
“Where are they, by the way? Have they ditched or something?”
“If only,” she sniggers. “No, they’re down on the sideline with the coach. They want to talk to Freddy before the game.” The team is moving toward their coach after finishing a pre-game warmup. “We just got here, but Freddy’s been here since after school. Dad expects nothing less than one-hundred percent dedication.”
“I can understand getting obsessed with your sport.”
“But does your dad force you to stay on the field and train?”
“Ah, no. My dad tells me to get a life.”
“Maybe your dedication will impress my dad. You could lead with it if he approaches you.”
“Just blurt out that I’m obsessed with soccer?”
She giggles. “Okay. That might come off as weird. But if he sees you as someone with dedication, he’ll like you.”
“I doubt it’s that easy. He’s aware I play soccer. I’ve come into the ER with dislocations before.”
Tabby winces. “This is gonna go bad, huh?”
I latch onto her hand. “We don’t want to break up, right?”
She squeezes my hand. “I don’t want that.”
“Then we’ll prove we’re better together.” I add a wary look. “Is your mom cool with me? With us?”
Tabby shrugs, uncertain. “She was weird when she met you. I didn’t expect the several dinner invitations.”
I gulp. “Do you think she’ll rope me into dinner with your family tonight?”
“Maybe, but I can’t see Dad agreeing to that.”
I peck her cheek. “Maybe if he does, we’ve won.”
