Unable to hide the amused tilt of his lips, Dad shook his head gravely. “We raised you better than that, son.”
The dishes clattered when I hit the table on a frustrated grunt. “Leave me alone. Let me have my tragic crush in peace,” I said, dramatically tilting my forehead into my fingertips.
I ignored their wheezing in favor of dejectedly eating my mother’s excellent ackee and saltfish with a stack of her delicious Johnny cakes. Jamaican food made everything better.
Mostly.
My parents must’ve seen something in my body language and eventually settled down. Dad reached across the table and squeezed my forearm. “All jokes aside, son, I’m sorry he can’t return your feelings. He’s one of the few men in this state I’d trust with your heart.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, though,” I whined.
“He can’t be trusted with your heart?” Mom asked.
“No. I mean yes, he can.” I pouted. “Joel and Tristan are convinced hedoesreturn my feelings.”
“What makes them think that? And, more importantly, do you agree?”
I tilted my head back, lazily taking in the sky, hoping it’d swallow me up. “I do, but you’re going to think I’m being stupid.”
“You’re already in love with a straight man—how much more of a fool could you be?”
I glared at my father. “Oh, God, Dad. I’m not in love. I said I have acrush.”
“A year-long crush?” Mom asked, a little too astutely. “Okay, sure. I believe you.”
“What makes you think I’ve been crushing on him for a whole year?”
I mean, I had, butstill.
She arched one perfectly manicured brow at me. “It took me a minute because you don’t call him by his first name, but I remember now.Walkeris that geometry teacher friend of yours, right? The one you couldn’t stop talking about? The one you helped with histragiccountry-boy style?”
See?Impossible.
“Why do you think he’s not straight?” Dad asked.
“Because,” I snarled, thumbing away a droplet from the side of my mug of coffee, “Joel says every time I go near Walker, he blushes.”
Mom bit her lip, and her eyes went unfocused. “Ah, yes. That is the one good thing about dating a white man. You will always know when he’s into you.”
“The one good thing, huh?” I raised my brow, gesturing at my father’s hand on her thigh.
In the meantime, my father stared at her, his jaw hanging open. “You knew I liked you?”
“Every time you walked into my momma’s restaurant, you went red as a lobster. Also, your eyes were always glued to my boobs.”
“Mom,” I whined. “Please don’t. I beg you.”
“It’s true, son. His eyes never left my tits, and his cheeks were always a lovely shade of red.”
She gestured to my father, who cooperated by flushing a bright cherry into his hairline.
Jesus Christ.Can’t take them anywhere.
Mom patted my hand. “Okay, tell us. Why is Walker turning red? Are you flirting with him?”
“Kinda. Mostly unintentionally. It’s like we have this…energybetween us.”
“Didn’t Hen have a crush on him in high school?” Dad asked.
