“Yeah, but I thought you were talking about the way …”
I have to stop her. That is one memory that needs to stay buried. My palm flies up in the air as I groan. “That was a fucking catastrophe all around. I mean, I tried to sleep with the jerk and you know how that went.”
She runs over to me and hugs me. “I’m sorry. I know he hurt you.”
“Yeah, even worse, it was humiliating,” I mumble into her shoulder. “Not only that, my grades crashed. I can’t go through that again. I’m taking extra classes and working double time to make up for that semester. So no. Graham cracker sin can’t be an option right now. I wish it could be different.”
Jenna pulls her hair out of an elastic band and twists it up in a messy bun, wrapping the band around it again. “After all the time you spent ogling him and chatting it up with him on Saturday, I thought that maybe you were interested.”
Scrunching up my face, I say, “Um, yeah, those details are totally sketchy to me.”
“You’re positive then?”
“I wish I could, but studying comes first. Now scram so I can get something done.”
She sidles out the door and I resume my work. But now I have to conjure up some BS because the old thought choo choo has chugged right off the tracks. This sucks. After about twenty minutes, I get up and decide to go for a run. Running always helps my brain reconnect. I tie my shoes and charge out the door. Forty minutes later when I get back, there’s a lovely bouquet of flowers on the counter.
“You got a delivery while you were gone,” Jenna announces with a smirk.
I rest my arms on the counter and stretch my calves as curiosity has me leaning toward the little white card that reads, Cate Forbes. “From who?”
“My guess is they’re from Drew, that’s who,” Jenna says, moving closer to face me.
“Right.” I laugh because I know my best friend. “You bought them and are pretending they’re from Drew, didn’t you?”
Jenna actually has the decency to look appalled. With fingers at the hollow of her throat, she says, “Seriously. You think I would do that?”
“Yes, I do.” I nod at the same time.
“Damn. You don’t think very highly of me, do you?”
“Yes, I do. I love you, in fact. But when you set your mind on something, deviant Jenna comes out in full force.”
She rolls her eyes and giggles. “Okay, so I did not send the flowers, but now I wish I had.”
This is confusing. “You really didn’t?”
“I’ll pinky swear if you want.” She holds out her finger.
So if she didn’t, then that Drew dude must have. I walk back to the flowers and with hesitant fingers reach for the little card that came with them.
“It won’t bite, you know.” Jenna’s sarcasm reaches me from across the room.
I grab the card and read it.
I would love a chance to take you to dinner.
Drew McKnight.
“What does it say?”
Perplexed, I mumble, “Oh my. He’s asked me to dinner. And these are beautiful. I’ve never gotten flowers before.” I lean in to inhale their fragrance.
“They are and when did he ask you out? And don’t frown. You know my mom says that’s a sure way to create early wrinkles.”
This whole flower thing has me completely shocked. No one has ever done anything so sweet like this for me before. “No set date, just that he’d like to take me.”
“Oh my god.”
“Don’t get your panties all wet over this.” I say that but in reality, I’m the one getting nervous.
“You swear you don’t remember him? He was with my brother the entire night. And the two of you had a cozy little chat going.”
Grabbing her arm, I squeak, “No I don’t remember! Help me, Jenna! I was hammered. I barely remember seeing Ben.” The night is fuzzy at best. “Wait a minute. If he’s Ben’s friend, how old is this dude?”
“Ben’s age.”
“What? That would make him what? Twenty-seven?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Jeez. That’s like gramps. No way can I go out with a man that old.”
“He’s in his second year of residency. He’s a doctor.” She says it like she’s dangling a golden carrot in front of my face.
“So? That’s supposed to make him datable? I don’t care if he’s the President of the United States’ son. He’s too old for me. He’s probably ready for a wife or something. I’m trying to finish school not start a family.”
“Damn, Cate, calm down. It’s not like he’s twenty years older than you. It’s seven. That’s it. Lots of girls our age date guys seven years older than they are.”
“Oh yeah? Like who.”
“That Scarlett chick from our English class freshman year. She did.”
“Yeah, and she’s slept with almost every guy at Purdue. She keeps the Boilermakers running strong. She singlehandedly kept the entire fourth year mechanical engineering guys in blow jobs that year.”
“Pure conjecture.”