Page 79 of The Doctor's Truth

I start up the car and slowly drive away, back toward my place.

38

Kenzi

It’s only later that I realize what I’ve done. After dinner has been made and consumed, after Otto has taken his bath and gotten into his pj’s, after we’ve read a chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Only when the house is quiet and still and I’m lying awake, staring at the ceiling, does it hit me.

I agreed to dinner with Jason’s family.

I’m going to have to sit across the table from Mr. Fucking King.

Jesus Christ, save me.

39

Donovan

Jason always loses his mind before seeing his parents.

The day of the dinner, he spends the whole day walking around the house, completely scatterbrained. He’ll be making an omelet one second, and the next second I’ll find him trimming his hair in the bathroom, omelet already forgotten in the kitchen.

“You’re doing that thing,” I tell him.

“What thing?” He’s finally eating his (probably cold at this point) omelet, standing up at the kitchen. He’s carried a bottle of shampoo in from the bathroom, and it sits beside him while he eats—why?

I’m about to point it out to him when there’s a knock on the door. Jason walks, barefoot, to the door and opens it up.

Kenzi comes blustering in. “Hey!” she says. “I’m only here for a second—did I leave a hair curler here?”

Apparently, Jason isn’t the only one with scatterbrain. “In the bathroom,” I tell her. “Bottom right drawer.”

Kenzi has been squirreling things away at our place. It’s a side effect of spending the stray night over here. First, it was just a couple of pairs of panties. Now, it’s hair product. Makeup. A blazer.

“You’re a saint,” she says and rushes to the bathroom to retrieve it.

I stayed home on prom night. I imagine this is what it must be like for most people, though—a flurry of half-dressed humans running back and forth between rooms.

When Kenzi vanishes into the bathroom, Jason stares at the wall, his brain a million miles away.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask him.

“Do you know where my black blazer is?”

“In the closet. Next to mine.”

“Cool, cool.” He looks down at his hands, which are suspiciously empty. “Where’s my—?”

“Kitchen counter.”

“I love you, man,” Jason says, reuniting with his omelet.

“Love you, too,” I repeat. I’m scrolling through my computer. Even though the glare of my screen, I can feel Kenzi’s inquisitive eyes on me, lingering in the archway.

“What’s up, buttercup?” I ask her, deadpan.

“How do you guys do that?”

“Do what?”

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