My phone buzzes.I ignore it and curl into my pillow. Buzzes again. Again.
I grab it to make it stop.
Three texts from an unknown number.
Unknown:This is Lucas.
Unknown:I’d like to take you somewhere today. For our date.
Unknown:2pm. I’ll pick you up at Eileen’s.
Lucas. The one who followed Nate out without looking back.
I should play it cool. Make him wait. Protect what’s left of my dignity.
I type:I’ll be ready.
Then I lie there staring at the ceiling, wondering what you wear to a maybe-date with an ex who has every reason to hate you.
“You’re goingto wear a hole in my floor.”
Grandma sets down her crossword. I’ve been walking the same path between the kitchen and living room for twenty minutes, checking the window every thirty seconds.
“I’m not pacing. I’m thinking while walking.”
“That’s called pacing.” She points at the plate in front of her. “Sit. Eat. You’re making the cat nervous.”
“You don’t have a cat.”
“I’m the cat in this scenario.”
I take a bite of toast. It tastes like cardboard and anxiety.
“So.” She picks up her pen, filling in a word without looking up. “Lucas Price.”
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You said his name in that tone.”
“What tone?”
“The tone that means you’re about to give me advice I didn’t ask for.”
“I was simply going to mention he’s a good man. Became a doctor to help people. Comes by to check on the elderly folks in town, even the ones who can’t pay.” She pauses. “Also very handsome. Those glasses suit him.”
“Grandma.”
“What? I have eyes.” She peers at me over her own glasses. “Now go change. You’re not wearing that ratty sweater on a date with Dr. Price.”
“It’s not a date. It’s probably an interrogation.”
“Wear the green one anyway. Brings out your eyes.”
I head upstairs.
“And fix your hair! You look like you stuck your finger in a socket!”
