“I see,” says Mrs. Buckley.
“The prayer requests must be working,” Andi goes on. There’s practically a halo around her head now. “His parents will besorelieved.”
It occurs to me, at last, that I failed to mention that Andi and I are dating. Christ, I’m bad at this.
“Hey, um, babe,” I say, and look up at her. I’ve never called her babe before. She looks appropriately skeptical. “Do you still want to—do that thing? Before we head out?”
It would probably be easier to simply point at her and shoutgirlfriend!
“Oh, definitely,babe,” she says. “That thing sounds great.”
Across the table, Mrs. Buckley’s face is pleasantly neutral, which could mean absolutely anything. I stand, my chair scraping back, grab my coffee cup, and drain it.
“Nice to see you,” I tell her, because I have to say something.
“Absolutely lovely!” Andi gushes. Her smile’s a little dangerous. “Tell Gideon’s parents I say hi.”
“Have a wonderful day,” Mrs. Buckley says, and Andi and I leave the coffee shop.
“So,” she says, when we’re a ways down the block and there’s no chance of being overheard. “Does this mean your parents know we’re dating or don’t know we’re dating?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I say. “This isn’t the first time they’ve put in that prayer request, though they backed off a little over the fall. They might have been putting one in for Sadie and remembered me at the last minute, or maybe someone told them.”
It’s not a secret that we’re dating, obviously, but I haven’t actually had a conversation with my parents about it. I don’t think I want to hear anything they might say.
“You know, I almost admire the sheer…” Andi waves one hand through the air, like she’s looking for a word. “Passive-aggressive audacity? Of it. Because that was honestly pretty effective and they didn’t have to make any direct statements whatsoever.”
This sort of shit is practically rote by now. Putting in a prayer that I’ll get a date is essentially a request for the Mrs. Deanna Buckleys of the world to set me up with their daughters—who I doubt want to be set up with me, either—without admitting that anything in their family is imperfect.
They might also think there’s a chance I can be seduced away from Andi, bless their hearts.
“How bad is this gonna be?” she asks, suddenly serious and quiet. “I know Sadie’s miserable.”
I shrug with a nonchalance I don’t quite feel, because it’s easy to know that I shouldn’t mind my parents’ disapproval about this and another thing entirely not to feel it like a lead weight in my gut.
“However they feel is their problem,” I tell her, which isn’t completely true, but I like the way it sounds. “Anyway, what are you doing Friday?”
That gets a lifted eyebrow and a smirk, just like I was hoping for.
“I thought you were busy.”
“There’s a roller derby match in Blythe,” I say, and her eyebrows shoot up. “Want to go?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
ANDI
“Oh,”Gideon says when I walk into the foyer where he’s waiting with my uncle Frank, making small talk. He clears his throat. “You look nice.”
“Thanks,” I say, and smooth my dress against one thigh and probably blush because I did, in fact, take an hour and a half to get ready for this roller derby group date. “So do you.”
“Thank you,” Gideon says, sort of stiff and formal, probably because he’s standing there with my uncle and waiting for me and this all feels more than a little like we’re sixteen and going to a school dance together. “Ready?”
“Ten p.m. and not a minute later,” Frank tells Gideon, because he thinks he’s a comedian. “And you, should I be letting you wear that out of the house?”
I roll my eyes at him, fondly, because I’m in my thirties and this isn’t even the shortest dress I own, though it’s close.
“Okay. Thank you,” I tell him. “Don’t wait up.”
