“What is going on here?” I say, gesturing at her trench.
“Think of it as me reaching out.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “If you think reaching out is showing up in lingerie and throwing milk at me, then you need to do some more fucking research.”
“Okay, so it turns out it doesn’t work like in romance novels…”
“Nothing ever does.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Does.”
I sigh. “You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here. Or what you’retryingto do, anyway.”
She clenches her fists, and takes a deep breath in.
“I want to be a better girlfriend,” she blurts, “and I need you to show me how.”
My mouth falls open.I’m sorry—what?!
“Will you help me?”
I hold up my hands. “Sorry, I just need a minute to process this.”
I blink.Is this actually happening?
“What’s the big idea, Carrie?”
She clears her throat. “Like I said—I want your help to become the world’s best book girlfriend.”
We’re right back at square one—only this time, the roles are reversed. I rememberexactlyhow she first reacted that day in the dining hall, and so I decide to go along with it and act out the scene all over again.
“Sorry, but I’m all booked up. I promised to take Lewis to Planned Parenthood—get him on birth control.”
And then I slam the door shut in her face.
I’m surprised at myself, but at the same time… not. If this is how she wants to play it, then I’m down. It’s fucking hard, though—because deep down, I’d do anything for her.Stay strong, Don. Don’t give in to a pretty face.She deserves to have to fight for it. Doesn’t she?
Fuck it.
I fling open the door. She hasn’t budged an inch.
“Is it me, or are you getting déjà vu?”
She looks at me steadily. “So, can I come in?”
I’m frozen to the spot.
“Why?”
“Can’t you at leastpretendto be excited?”
“Oh, trust me—you were definitely giving me a hard-on, right up until the point you threw milk at me.”
She winces.
