Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Half of me wants to walk right back out the front door, but I don’t have anywhere to go. There are coffee shops close by, but I’m exhausted from my shitty night’s sleep and all I want is a greasy breakfast and a nap. Except now I have man-ass burned behind my eyelids forever.
I close my bedroom door, flop down on the mattress, and pull a pillow over my head. Mom must be serious about this guy if he spent the night. So I probably need to get over seeing his ass.
A few minutes later, footsteps pass my room, one light and one heavier. Clearly the heavier ones belong to The Butt.
Several minutes pass before there’s a knock at my door. “Violet, honey, can I come in?”
“As long as no one is naked, sure!”
My door opens and a few seconds later, my mattress dips. “I’m sorry. I thought I was picking you up at noon.” She pulls the pillow off my face. She looks as apologetic as I am horrified.
“I should have warned you I was coming home early. I knew you had a date. I should’ve guessed it would turn into a sleepover, too.” Logic and what I just got an eyeful of implies it would have been a safe assumption.
“Sidney didn’t sleep over. I ate something with dairy at dinner and I must have taken antacids instead of lactose pills and ended up with demons in my stomach. I invited him for breakfast.” She waves a hand around. “Anyway. I thought we had time, but apparently we didn’t.”
“Wait. I gave you the wrong pills?”
“They were right next to each other in the medicine cabinet. It could have happened to anyone.”
“I’m sorry. I feel bad.” I frown. “We need a Bat Signal. Like how Toby’s older brother always leaves a sock on his doorknob when his girlfriend is over, so Toby doesn’t interrupt when they’re getting it on.” Toby is one of my Mathlete friends. His brother is a hot jock. He’s the quarterback for our high school football team, and he’s been dating the head cheerleader since the beginning of the year. They’re like a bad nineties’ teen movie. They’ll probably win prom king and queen at the formal.
“We don’t need a Bat signal, it won’t happen again.”
I frown. “You didn’t break up with him, did you?”
“No. I just mean we'll be more careful in the future. And should I be worried about you going over to Toby’s place?”
I sit up and cross my legs. “His brother is the one getting busy in his bedroom, not Toby.”
“Where are his parents, though?”
“His mom gets home at three fifty-six. She teaches middle school. And his dad works at a bank, I think. Maybe. He always wears a suit. He’s home later, but Toby’s brother has exactly forty-one minutes to make magic in his room before his mom gets home. And he thinks Toby and all Toby’s friends are losers. Literally every time he walks his happy cheerleader girlfriend out before his mom comes home, he makes the L sign on his forehead when he passes us in the living room.”
“I don’t like Toby’s brother.”
I shrug. “He’s a one-dimensional jork. He’s hitting the high point of his life and in ten years he’s going to be balding with a beer gut. Based on his last report card, he’ll probably get a sports scholarship and have to buy his way through his college courses. He can make fun of us all he wants, but Toby is brilliant and probably going into aerospace. He’ll be making minimum a quarter of a million dollars a year for the rest of his life and people will respect his opinion, while his brother’s trajectory is a downhill slide after high school. The percentage of jorks who peak in high school is astoundingly high. There must be studies. He can call us losers all he wants, but you can’t have brawn without some brains to balance it out.”
“God, I love you,” Mom says.
I pat her hand. “I know, and I love you, too.” I recognize my relationship with my mom is not like most of my friend’s relationships with their parents. Is it awkward sometimes? Sure. But life is a lot of awkwardness. If I can’t handle awkward with my only parent, then I’m screwed. “Anyway, I appreciate your concern for my mental well-being, but I’ve been reading raunchy romance novels since I turned thirteen. Would it have been preferable to meet your boyfriend’s face before his butt? Sure, but that’s not how it went down. Hence, we should figure out a Bat Signal, so our next introduction is a face one.” I pull the scrunchie from my hair. “This can be our signal. If there’s a scrunchie on the door, then I know there’s something going on. And obviously in the future, when I’m planning a sleepover at a friend’s, I will now assume you’re planning one with Sidney.”