Page 25 of Shy Girls Can't Fake Date

“Just someone from school.”

“Looked like a boy.”

I shove the flour back on the shelf before the container explodes on the floor.

“Kikki?” Mom presses.

I clear my throat and turn from the pantry. “You remember Parker Kelly, don’t you?”

“Oh, sure,” Mom says with a happy smile. “I haven’t seen him since you were in middle school.”

“Yeah, well, it was him.”

“Why was he driving you home?” Mom asks with a mixture of intrigue and giddiness. “Do you two hang out often?”

I shake my head. “No. He was just at the café. He’s at the café a lot because he’s friends with Jamie.”

“Uh-huh,” Mom drags it out, waiting for me to draw the dots.

I shrug. “He offered to drive me home.”

Mom chuckles. “Well, that’s adorable.”

I turn away before I blurt out something I’m not supposed to. I pull the flour and sugar containers from the pantry and set them on the countertop.

“You’re baking?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, for Parker,” I say, wishing the heat in my cheeks would dissolve. “He drove me home for cookie dough cups.”

Mom sits on a counter stool, resting her chin in her hand. “Oh, really?”

I busy myself with getting the vanilla extract and baking soda. “We were talking in chemistry, and then kinda kept talking during my café shift.”

“Well, I remember him being a nice boy. You’ve just never talked about him before.”

“Haven’t I?” I say coyly. “Well, he and Lewis are always around. It feels like I know him.”

Well, I know Lewis, but I have to pretend I’m interested in Parker.

Before Mom can ask another probing question, the front door opens.

“Hello, hello,” Dad’s voice calls out.

“In here,” Mom calls, and I continue gathering ingredients.

Dad walks into the kitchen and lets out a whistle. He puts his briefcase down on the stool by Mom, kisses her cheek, and then smiles at the array of ingredients. “Are you baking, Kikki?”

“For a boy,” Mom says with a giggle.

“Mom,” I groan.

There’s nothing more humiliating than talking about boys with your dad in the room.

“A boy?” Dad asks, shook.

“Parker Kelly,” Mom blurts.

I click my tongue, looking up at the ceiling. “Mom.”

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