“The one with the ghosts?” As if I don’t know.
He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, that one.”
I tap my fingers across my open mouth. “Yawn.” Knox hurls a pillow and it slams into my nose before I bring it to my lap. “Hey!”
“You deserved that.”
“Gimme a break. That movie and the book are a snooze-fest.” I may be exaggerating a touch.
He squints. “Just know, if I had another pillow, it would also now be in your face. It’s a classic.” He shakes his head. “And you call yourself a reader."
I flick my hand. “Sorry. It bores me to tears.”
He keeps shaking his head as if disgusted by my lack of sophistication, but I think he’s onto my tease.
He starts tapping on his phone. I scoot my way to the head of the bed and prop a pillow behind my back.
A second later, my phone vibrates with a text from Mom fretting over the weather and when I’ll be home.Oops. This could be tricky. I meant to reach out first and let her know the haps.
Surely the direct approach is best. Explain what happened and where I’ll be spending the night. My fingertip tingles as I pushsend.
A minute later, I gawk at her response.
MOM:Make the most of your time, Ev. Don’t let this one get away.
“You alright over there?”
The strangled sound I thought I’d only imagined must have made its way beyond the safe zone of my brain. Knox is watching me as he fumbles around the back of the television with a cord from his phone.
“Um, stay calm, but there is a slight chance the world might be ending tonight.”
His eyebrows lift, but he keeps working. “How so?”
“I just filled Mom in on the situation here…”
That stills him. He waits as if I’m about to drop a bomb, which, Mom’s text has the impact of. “And?”
“And she said…well, let me just read it to you.” I clear my throat and recite Mom’s baffling response.
“Make the most of it?” Ears reddening, he refocuses on the TV. “I’m guessing you weren’t supposed to share that with me.”
I toss my phone to the mattress. “Your guess would be as good as mine.” I snort. “My goodness. Just when you think you know someone, you get a message like that.” Mom just blew to smithereens a lifetime of expectations. What? Does a daughter turn some magic age where her parents will do anything, violate any norm, to offload her?
Knox rests his forearm along the top of the television. “And here I was worrying she wouldn’t like me after tonight.”
I fling out my arm. “Thank you! At least someone is worried about my wellbeing.”
“Hey, I worried. That’s the whole reason we’re in this mess.”
“And your concern is appreciated.”
His blush shifts into a beguiling smile. “You weren’t thanking me an hour ago.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
He chuckles, resuming his efforts, blessedly without a deep dive into thedon’t let this one get awaypart.
The TV screams to life, blaring an awful racket. He winces and scrambles for the remote. “Yikes. Sorry.”
