Page 90 of Loathe at First Sight

The radio hums in a soft volume as I weave my way through town, trying to decide what I want to do. I really don’t want to have to move back in with my parents. That sounds awful, and I don’t want to take a step backward…again.

I love my parents.

But no.

Maybe with my severance package, I can find a new place around town to rent. But I’ll probably need to find another job first. Who the hell is going to rent to someone who is unemployed?

Ugh, this whole thing is giving me a headache.

My phone starts ringing, and I figure that it’s probably Jack wondering where I am. But when the name pops up on the screen, I see that it’s Veronica.

“Hi, Ronnie,” I answer.

“Hey, gorgeous. What are you up to?”

“Not much,” I reply, not wanting to let her know about my crap show of a day. I don’t want to talk about it right now.

In typical Ronnie fashion, she doesn’t dwell on it and quickly changes the subject. “I have a question for you. Well, it’s more of a favor.”

“Okay?” I brace for impact.

“I’m coming into town tomorrow, but Mom and Dad will be out of town. I thought it would be fun for the five of us to all have a little sleepover at their house.”

I’m not even sure how to reply to that.

“Ronnie, I’m thirty-three years old.”

“Liz, you and I just had a sleepover last week, remember?”

“Yes, but all five of us at our parents' house just seems different,” I retort.

“Come on,” she pleads. “It will be so much fun. We can all just hang out together without having Mom and Dad being around. I just suggested their house because it’s big enough…and well, it has the nostalgia factor.”

“What’s all this about, Ronnie? Do you have some horrible news you need to give us or something?”

“No, everything is fine. It’s just that we never get the chance to do this. I’m always traveling, and we couldn’t do it for years…you know, since you were in LA.”

Man, my sister knows how to lay on the guilt as thick as she can.

“Please, Lizzie,” she whines. “I promise to make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“So, you’ll come?”

“I guess,” I reply with the heaviest sigh I can muster.

She practically squeals. “Yay! Thanks, Lizzie! You’re the best!”

My car suddenly starts making a God-awful noise as though something is grinding that definitely shouldn’t be grinding.

“What’s that noise?” Ronnie asks.

“Something is going on with my car.”

“I thought your hot boyfriend fixed it.”

I groan. “He did, but this sounds like a whole different issue than before. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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