Page 9 of Falling for my Best Friend

T H R E E

- Lucy -

It started to rain right after I got off the phone with Aiden. It was one of those unexpected bursts that almost seems to erupt from the sunshine. I’m sure if I’d been looking at it from indoors, I would’ve found it quite beautiful.

However, it was hard to see the silver lining once I realized I would probably be soaked through by the time I got home. On the bright side, I’d finished the cheesecake so at least I didn’t have to be the pathetic girl scoffing dessert from a napkin in the rain.

Just as I noticed my shoulders were effectively drenched, I heard a honk and looked towards the street. A familiar Audi pulled up to the sidewalk and rolled down the window.

“You sure you don’t want that lift?” Aiden asked.

I ran over to the car and got in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“And you’re my good deed of the day,” he said.

“Did you come this way cause you knew it was going to rain?”

He shook his head. “No, I came this way cause Chelsea’s cooking tonight, and I’m in no hurry to get home.”

“What’s she making?”

“I don’t know. Would it be terrible of me to stop for a burger?”

I let my head fall back against the seat. “Yeah, it would. You can’t do that.”

“Do you remember Mrs. Monrovick?”

“From seventh grade English?” I asked.

“Yup.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Cause last time Chelsea made a one pot wonder, it looked like her face.”

I shook my head. “That’s fucked up. She was a nice lady.”

“With an oatmeal face.”

I smiled.

“Hey- would you like to come?”

I laughed. “I already ate.”

“I’m sure there’s enough bird food to go around.”

“No thanks. And I don’t think Chelsea would appreciate you inviting me.”

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes she would. She hates me.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say that. Really. She doesn’t even try to hide it.” She deliberately calls me by the wrong name every time I see her even though she knows I’m one of your oldest friends. Surely you’ve noticed that?

“So tell me about your date,” he said, flicking his turn signal on.

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