“Yeah,” he says. “The workout burn just isn’t quite as good if I can’t watch you rolling your eyes at me from the front desk.”
I squint but can’t help the slow smile spreading across my face. “Well, my eye-rolling abilities are well worth rearranging your entire week for. I mean, no one rolls eyes like I do.” Digging my fists into my hips, I make a big show of rolling my eyes just for him.
“Ah, there it is,” he says. “They should list that as part of the membership benefits.”
I laugh and then say, a little quieter, “I don’t think I’ll be sticking around here for that long.”
He doesn’t press me for more information, but I’m not ready to be done talking just yet. “So,” I say, “you listen to my advice?”
“What advice was that?” he asks.
“About finding new friends.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, Patrick can be an asshole, but you know how it is.”
I look up at him, forcing him to look me right in the eye. “Actually, no. I don’t know how it is. Not anymore.”
“Right,” he says. “Yeah, well, Patrick is... I don’t know.”
“That’s one way of describing him.”
“Hey, you said you don’t work every Saturday, right?”
“Yeah...”
“Well, what about this Saturday?” he asks.
“As in tomorrow?”
“She has the day off!” shouts Millie.
I whirl around. “I do not.”
She peeks her head out again. “Yeah,” she says. “You do. I just gave you the day off.” She turns to Mitch. “She’s spoken for Saturday evening, though.” And then she disappears back into the office.
I sigh. Guess I’m in store for another slumber party this weekend, where only two out of five people can stand breathing the same air as me. With the way my mom is looking at me these days, it’s better than staying home. “Well, I guess I’m off, but I’m technically grounded.”
His brow wrinkles. “I can take a hint.”
Guilt sinks into my chest. But I didn’t genuinely want to go out with him. Did I? “I really am grounded,” I say.
“Nah, it’s cool,” he says, and walks off to whatever piece of equipment is farthest from me.
Great. Keep pushing people away, Callie. There are plenty in your life to spare.
After he leaves, Millie rushes out of the office. “Oh my goodness!” she squeals. “He asked you out!”
“I’m grounded,” I remind her.
She waves me off. “Puh-lease, your mom wants to unground you so bad. I can smell it. Yesterday when I was in the office for morning announcements, she asked me all about Saturday night and she said you came home in a...” She holds her hands up in air quotes. “‘Not bad mood.’ I really think she’s very invested in your social life and is concerned for you and how well you’re adjusting to post-dance-team life.”
I sputter with laughter. The girl sounds like she’s recapping the plot of a movie. “And you got all that from a ‘not bad mood’?”
She nods with authority. “I speak Parent fluently.”
Millie
Twenty-Three
