Look at You

Chapter 11

11

I don't tell Callie about the concert when she asks me what my plans are this weekend. It literally eats at my internal organs, but I lie straight to her face and tell her the only thing I have planned is The Golf Cave. I text Jay immediately after, letting him know I need another shot at the sport and I've booked us for Sunday. There. Now it's a half lie!

I text Cam my address around 4 p.m. At first I'm wary, because he wasn't here for coffee this morning and naturally I spent the first hour of work convincing myself he's died, or that he's decided I'm not friendship worthy.

He texts me back immediately.

Thanks. Sorry about this morning. I'm at Doug's office today. Didn't have your number to text.

Of course he's a full sentences and punctuation guy. And hey, he's not dead.

no worries. see you tomorrow

7 is all he writes back. Callie sees me smiling at my phone and wheels over to poke my cheeks.

"Ooh mystery number? Who ya smiling at?"

I type got it and lock my phone before much more can be exposed. "No one, sweet girl. Now let's get out of here. I think we've done enough for the internet searchers of the world today."

She does get out of here with me, but she's booked a workout class so my hopes of getting a drink at O'Malley's are dashed. I squeeze her shoulder before she goes and wish her luck on her date tomorrow. At the mention of the d-a-t-e, she screams and sprints for her car yelling something about a nail technician. I can only hope the nails will be did for the big evening out because she's in her car so fast I barely even see her move.

I get in the Discovery and toss my things onto the passenger seat. As soon as I put the car in reverse, I hear my phone buzz against the leather seat. It is as if Jesus himself possesses me when I slam the car back into park and grab my phone like it's my Life Alert.

I let out an audible groan when I see it's Jay.

K.

Fucking dads.

__

I spend Saturday morning working out with Trey, and the rest of the afternoon helping mom clean out the garage. It's almost 6 when I very casually tell her I have plans at 7, and I need to go shower.

"Plans?" My face muscles go slack at the utter shock in her voice. She has even stopped sweeping and is staring at me unblinking.

"Yes, mom! Plans!" I'm embarrassed. I shut the box of tools I had been organizing and shove them under the put-on-your-shoes-here bench. "Annnnd, if we're being technical, I had plans this morning. With Trey."

"Trey doesn't count. Now tell me, what are the plans tonight?"

I toss up my hands. "Great thanks. My one friend doesn't even count."

"Simon!" She tilts her head even further than she is tilting it now. "Tell your mother!"

"I'm going to some concert gig in Mayfield. With a coworker person."

Mom tosses the broom to the floor. She's thrilled. "Seriously! Is it the girl? The nice pretty one you showed me that picture of?"

"No, mom, and don't get excited about Callie. We are strictly friends."