“I thought you got everything off your chestyesterday.”
Jenna glances out into the dark street. “Can we discuss thisinside?”
Nobody is there, not that I know of anyway, but she’s right. We don’t need a publicscene.
She follows me in, saying “I didn’t want to use my key. Not after…yesterday. It didn’t feelright.”
I go straight for the kitchen and pull open the fridge. After pushing aside some stuff, I locate leftovers and begin to eat themcold.
“Do you want me to warm those up for you?” Jenna’s watching me from theentrance.
“No thanks.” I take another bite. Cold lasagna isn’t good, but I’m too starved tocare.
“Isaac, please. Look at me.” She comes closer, stopping a few feet fromme.
“Why are you here?” I set the plate on the counter and give her what she has askedfor.
“To tell you that I want to try. I changed my mind.” She folds her hands in front of herself. “I was in shock yesterday and I reacted badly. I’m sorry about what I said.Really.”
She steps lightly until she’s next to me. Her hand goes to my shoulder. “Isaac?”
“I heard you,” Isay.
“Then what do youthink?”
Looking down at Jenna, I can’t help but think about the mistakes people make. Everyone’s allowed to have a bad reaction, right? I wasn’t expecting it to be pretty,anyway.
Well, here goes nothing. Trial byfire.
“I’m having dinner with Claire and Aubrey tomorrow night. Do you want tocome?”
I’m reallyhappy Britt stopped by my desk this afternoon. I needed this drink. I didn’t realize how wound up I was until I set my purse down and ordered my first fruity cocktail. With every sip of my pineapple mojito, it feels like my shoulders drop an inch from my ears. And it helps I don’t have to worry about Claire. My dad picked her up from school and is probably letting her eat and watch whatever shewants.
“How was your date?” I ask Britt, smashing mint leaves into the bottom of my glass with mystraw.
She finishes eating the cherry from her Dirty Shirley and looks at me, perplexed. “Whichone?”
Britt dates for the both of us. That’s our running joke anyway. She’s weeding through the candidates so I don’t have to. It’s very pseudo-altruistic ofher.
I laugh at her confusion. “The one you went on lastweek.”
“Oh.” Her face sours. “Awful. Terrible. He woresocks.”
“And that’s badbecause…?”
“He was also wearingsandals.”
My nosescrunches.
“Yep.” Britt says, her voicegrave.
“Do you think he has sex with his socks on?” My shoulders shake as I sip mydrink.
Britt pretends to vomit in her mouth. “What if he has sex with his socksandsandalson?”
I shut my eyes and shake my head, hoping maybe that will make the vivid images fly from mymind.
“Let’s stop talking about that guy.” She puts a finger in her mouth and sticks out her tongue. “Tell me more about you. Tell me more about Claire. You sent me a message when you were in the emergency room with her, and then I didn’t hear much else. How isshe?”
