“I don’t know about the Scrabble thing.”
“Bird watching then.”
“Or coupon clipping.”
I nodded. “Coupon clipping. I’m down with that.”
“Judging the neighbors for leaving out their garbage can.”
“Clay.”
He laughed. “Mockery is my love language.”
“Well, that explains some things.”
His playful mood lasted until we turned onto our block, and then we both got quiet. I parked in front of his grandparent’s house, but my eyes were on my parents’ house not too far down the street. My mom would be home. I wouldn’t even mind her knowing about us. Maybe she already suspected. Maybe she could help prep my dad.
Clay lightly squeezed my knee. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to tell her.”
“Not today. Your grandparents are waiting.” That, and I wanted to call her first. Surprises weren’t really Mom’s thing. Or mine, for that matter.
I opened my door and slid out, and Clay took my hand as we walked up to the door. His hand in mine felt so nice, I had to hold back the tears threatening to pop out. That never happened. What was wrong with me?
“Anything else I should know?” I asked, suddenly nervous. What would his grandparents think of the two of us together? Forget what I’d said. I wasn’t ready for anyone else to know yet.
“I’ve never brought a girlfriend to meet them. No pressure.”
“Am I your girlfriend?” I blurted out.
He’d been about to knock but he dropped his hand. “Are you?”
“I don’t know. Last I checked, there wasn’t a protocol for this sort of thing.”
Clay laughed. “Are you afraid of labels, Lauren?”
“No.” I squeezed his hand. “Okay, I’m your girlfriend.”
“Good.” He locked eyes with me.
“Good.”
The door opened before I could kiss his face off.
His grandma stood there with her kitchen broom in hand. I wasn’t sure if she’d been sweeping, or if it was just part of her intimidating look. “What are you standing there for? I could hear you talking but you never knocked.” She looked at him before her eyes rested on me. Studying me. “Parker’s sister.” She looked at our clasped hands and her eyebrows raised as if to say,interesting.
“This is Lauren, Grandma.”
“Yes, I see that. Come in. Are we really playing Scrabble? You’ve never wanted to before, Clayton.”
“Whatever you’d like to do, Grandma.”
I followed the direction of his gaze over to a scary-looking Nutcracker doll on the mantle across the room. It was like the eye of Sauron as far as he was concerned. I could just tell. Maybe I could accidentally knock it over and break it on our way out. Except I wanted to make a good first impression. Dang it.
His Grandma motioned to the table. “Well, I have the game set up. Or we could play Password instead.”
“No, Scrabble is fine,” Clay said quickly, leading me into the kitchen.
“What’s Password?” I whispered.
