Page 233 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“Are you coming down now, Spider-Man?” she asks teasingly.
Before I can respond, “Nelson,” is barked at me.
I jolt against the steel beams, and see an upside-down Dr. Jones marching towards us.
Crap.
I pull myself up into a seated position on the beam and hurl my leg over to face Tabby and her reddening father.
Great, he’s pissed.
Dr. Jones folds his arms, and hard creases indent his forehead. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I grin as the blood pulses in my temples. “Just hanging out.”
His nostrils flare, and I swear I see steam. “Showing off, more like it.”
“Dad, he was just goofing around,” Tabby defends, twisting my beanie in her hands.
“Do not copy this boy,” her dad warns. “I don’t want you climbing something, slipping, and needing me to wrap you in plaster.”
“I wasn’t climbing anything,” Tabby argues. “I got the message. I’m an uncoordinated, disappointing daughter.”
Dr. Jones takes hold of Tabitha’s shoulders. “No, you’re not. Your mother is a wreck. She didn’t mean to say those things.”
“But she did,” Tabby responds.
Before things get more heated, I jump down from the beam, landing on the grass with a hard thud.
Dr. Jones catches my grimace. “Boy, are you always looking for trouble? On what planet did jumping down from that height seem like a good idea?”
I shrug. “Earth?”
Tabby laughs at my comment, only sucking in her bottom lip when her dad glares at her.
Dr. Jones’s attention falls back on me. “Sorry, Kai. I didn’t realize you were a comedian.” He sighs, hugging Tabitha to his side. “But you make my daughter laugh. My wife has urged me to give you a chance. So, I want to invite you to dinner. Will you join us?”
Tabby’s mouth hangs open as she stares at me.
Does this mean… we won?
“Umm,” I hesitate. “Yeah. The Jasmine Garden, right?”
Dr. Jones nods, hugging Tabby close one more time and then releasing her. “That’s right. Do you need a ride?”
I shake my head. “No, sir. I drove here.”
“Tabitha will ride with her family,” Dr. Jones adds. “But we’ll have an extra seat at the table for you.”
Dr. Jones walks away, leaving Tabby and I staring at each other.
“He… He,” Tabby stammers. “He invited you.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
Tabby links her hands with mine. “I hope this is the last weird thing in our relationship.”
Not that I was paying attention, but our team won the match. Boy, am I glad. The last thing I need is a losing quarterback and his football-obsessed father officially labelling me a bad luck charm.
