The guys seemed completely content to continue arguing about who could hit what but Maria cleared her throat, surprising them into silence. “We should really get going. I would very much like to not be a high school dropout and a teen mom. That would just be the cherry on top.”
I smiled at her. “You would be the cutest teen mom ever, dominating the shit out of that show.”
She blinked at me, “What show?”
“Teen Mom?”
She glanced at the guys who all looked equally confused. “Yeah, I think you’re the only one who knows what that is.” She waddled off before I could reply, waving goodbye over her shoulder to our unlikely companions. I hurried to follow her, not having the least bit of desire to be in the middle of their shit. I caught up to her as we headed to our next class. We were definitely late but neither of us seemed to be in any hurry. I wasn’t quite sure how our schedules ended up being the exact same but I would bet money my dad and Mr. Mills had something to do with it.
“Hey, that was weird right?”
I tilted my head. “I mean, kind of. I wasn’t expecting the others to jump in, but Diego makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Girl, you are so deep in denial…you could be living in Denali and not know it.”
She side-eyed me. “Ok, first, that made no sense. Good try though. And secondly, I am not in denial.”
“He really likes you, Maria.”
“No accounting for taste.”
“Oh hush, you and Lil Bit are a catch.”
“And you’ll fight anyone who says otherwise?”
“Damn straight.”
When we got to class, we slid to the back of the classroom under the disapproving stare of the teacher who hadn’t appreciated us interrupting her lecture. Maria offered her an apologetic smile before carefully sliding into her seat. The desks were those old-fashioned kind, where the chair and the table were connected. Before long, she wouldn’t be able to fit in them. Guess we would just cross that bridge when we got there. The teacher droned on about psychology, Maria taking careful notes. I doodled in my notebook, occasionally glancing around the room. When Maria looked over at me, I proudly held up my crude drawing of me and Lil Bit in Sally. Lil Bit was driving, pacifier in her mouth. Maria shook her head at me, and I smiled proudly.
For the next couple of weeks, life was normal. Ish. Every day, the guys sat with us at lunch. Diego doted on Maria. At first, she resisted. I could see that fearful look in her eyes, that uncertainty. I prayed she got over that hesitance to trust, to love. I still hadn’t. But doesn’t mean she wouldn’t. Dalton was growing on me, as much as I hated to admit it. He was like a puppy. A labrador puppy. Or maybe a golden retriever. His infallible cheer, twisted humor. After he finally stopped hitting on me, he was actually quite fun to be around.
Now, Jackson. He was a different story. I did not like that fucker. That arrogant, rude, boy band wannabe. Pain in my ass.And I swear to God, if he didn’t stop calling me Malibu…I was going to prison for murder.
Prom was slowly creeping up. I could tell it made Maria incredibly nervous. Which was how we found ourselves sitting on the hood of Sally, debating dress shopping. Well, I was debating. She was just nodding and picking at her nails, blatantly refusing to help me choose a shop. I was stuck between Formally Yours or Bridals by Lori. Maybe both? Maria was still convinced we wouldn’t be able to find anything that would fit her now very visible baby bump. When the guys came out of the school and made their way to us, I hopped off the hood and spun towards Dalton.
“Bridals by Lori or Formally Yours?”
“The hell did you just say?” Dalton’s blue eyes were puzzled, comically so.
Jackson blinked. “Are we supposed to know what that means?”
Diego helped Maria off the hood. “They’re dress shops, dumbasses. Hannah shops there for gala events and shit.”
Dalton gave him a weird look, “And you know that how?”
I groaned. “Maria, come on. These dolts are useless. Bridals by Lori or Formally Yours?”
“Jesus, Malibu. Is it really such a big deal? Just freaking pick one. It’s just a dance. How you look is not that important.”
I fixed Jackson with a withering look. “Right, says the guy who spends more time on his hair than I do.” I gestured to his boot cut jeans, old rock T-shirt, and carefully styled hair. Hair that looked like the wind had just been caressing it, and jeans that hugged a really nice ass. Not that I noticed.
“Aw chucks, didn’t think you noticed me that much.”
I flipped him off and then gave Maria a pleading look. “Maria, please?”
She looked over at me. “I don’t know, Holly. Which one do you think has a maternity section?”
