“Like Jaxon?”
Tate laughs, flipping to a new channel. “Jaxon isn’t a tool, he’s just—”
“Anidiot?” I finish.
“Exactly.”
“Well, if we’re gonna go to this party, you’re going to have to get ready at some point. You should’ve almost been done getting ready when I got here.”
She tilts her head at me and raises an eyebrow. “You knew I wasn’t going to be ready when you got here.”
I did know… because we know each other better than anyone. I knew she’d open the door as if she were trying to hurry up and get ready. I knew she was going to hop in the shower because she sat on this very couch until she heard me knock instead of doing anything to get ready for tonight.
And I knew she was going to sit next to me on this couch and kill time because she got in and out of the shower in record Tate time.
And she knew I was going to get here early enough that she’d have time to do all of this.
“I did.”
“Or else you would’ve come right before the party to get me. With just enough time to stop and get all the alcohol and arrive before the first partygoers.”
“You know me too well.”
“Same goes for you.” She rests back against the couch, adjusting her towel as she rests her feet up on her coffee table like we have all the time in the world.
She finally finds a channel worth stopping on, so she does. The firstFinal Destinationmovie is playing.
I check my watch. We might be able to watch the whole thing, but only if Tate gets ready during the commercials.
“Hey,” she begins, and I stand up because I know exactly what she’s going to ask for.
“Popcorn.” Our voices blend together, and she smiles at me.
“Yes, please.” She clasps her hands together and gives me her signature Tate face.
“Coming right up.”
“You know,” she continues, “we probably have enough time to watch the whole movie. Only if I get ready during the commercials, though. If I don’t, we’ll definitely be late.”
I shake my head, toss the popcorn into the microwave, and press the start button.
five
Tate
This is not a couples costume,” I argue, resting against the fridge as Brinley’s eyes shoot from me to Fletcher, who’s across the room.
“You’re a Stanley Cup, Tatum. I don’t know a more obvious couples costume.”
“Then I guess I’m in a couples costume with a lot of guys tonight, including the one that you brought.” Brinley’s eyes leave mine and find Alex across the room. Fletcher grabbed him from Brinley a little bit ago and told her that he was taking Alex to mingle.
The poor guy looks like a deer in the headlights. Every time Fletcher drags him to talk to someone new, his eyes widen at Brinley as if he’s pleading for help.
She thinks it’s funny… obviously. It’s Brinley. I also think she’s trying to ensure he fits in with our crowd.
There’s one person, though, who would argue that Alex doesn’t fit in with our crowd, and that’s Jaxon.
After he briefly met Alex, he disappeared. I see him on occasion, but it’s like he’s trying to avoid her.
