See? I know how to play this game.
Me:Sorry.
Me:Not sorry.
Me: You told on me first. Next time keep your trap shut.
Joe-Schmo:You still suck.
After that, no more Joe checking up on me. It’s better than nothing, I guess. Deciding to put an end to this conversation, I smile at my roomie. “Don’t worry about it, Deena. I’ll figure it out.” Even if I have to sleep down on the first floor in the lounge, I will.
“Great,” she chirps. “I’ve got my eye on one of the hockey players.” She does the diabolical finger thing again. “He’s h-a-w-t.”
I choose not to go there, because I’m pretty sure she knows how “hot” is actually spelled. “Good for you.” I don’t really mean that. Well, okay, I want her to be happy. She’s a nice person, and we get along really well. It’s just, it gets old seeing her get her man All. The. Time. I have no doubt the hockey player in her sights will be in our room on Saturday night. No doubt whatsoever.
“I’ve gotta go. I’m going to be late for Chem.”
“Ugh, Chemistry.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why you take all those hard classes.”
We’ve been over this several times. I want to be a— Well, I’m not sure what I want to be, but something in the sciences. I don’t bother explaining it to her again. Instead, I pick up my book bag and throw it over my shoulder. “See you tonight.”
“Sure.” She flops back onto her bed. I’m pretty sure she has class too, but I don’t bother reminding her. She’s an adult. She gets to make her own decisions about her education.
Opening the door, I step out into the hallway and sigh. “Where the heck will I sleep Saturday?” The entire thing sort of makes me mad. And a little bummed too. But mostly mad. I don’t like getting displaced. But a bet is a bet, even though, technically, she was wrong about everything with Lucky. He doesn’t “love me.” He was just doing the right thing.
* * *
“You’ll never guesswho I ran into today.” Deena’s smirking. I hate when she does that. She’s a social butterfly compared to me—she could’ve run into anyone, literally. Hell, it could be Liam Hemsworth.
Oh, wow. Can you imagine just bumping intohim? Talk about an amazing day.
It can’t be him, because if she’d met Liam, she would have called me on the spot and had me run to wherever it was so I could meet him too. I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?
Okay. Now, I’m getting pissed. If she met Liam Hemsworth and didn’t call me…
“Okay, you’re doing one of your weird in your head things again.”
“Am not.” I was.
“Before you think it was someone good, I’ll just tell you. It was your brother.”
“Joe?”
“Do you have another brother?” I get a dramatic eye roll from her.
“Yes.” I do have another brother. His name is Christopher, and he still lives at home, opting out of college so he can pursue his lifelong dream of being a world-renowned bartender.
I’m not kidding. He wants to be a famous mixologist.
When he first told us that, I had to look it up. A mixologist is, well, a fancy bartender.
Her hands are on her hips; she’s getting irritated with me. “You know I meant Joe.”
“Fine, yes. I know you meant Joe.”
“Anyhoo. I told him you were going to be homeless on Saturday, and he said—”
“No.” I shake my head. “Why’d you do that?”
