Page 39 of Crazy for this Girl

LAYNEE: I need it.

CAL: Why?

LAYNEE: Because I want to listen to it another 80 times.

CAL: Go be Hannah’s best friend. I gotta go.

LAYNEE: You’d never give me away. *smiley face*

CAL: Maybe not.

CAL: I need you to count for me when I’m older.

LAYNEE: That’s all?

CAL: That’s appropriate, yeah.

LAYNEE: What does that even mean?

CAL: I think my telling you that I need you as a fill-in wife to keep annoying chicks away in college isn’t going to be something that would be a compliment to you.

LAYNEE: Probably not. Because that would mean I married someone that couldn’t count.

CAL: You’re an asshole.

“Laynee, can I talk to you for a minute?”

My hand is mid-air with a granola bar heading toward my mouth as my mom steps inside our living room. It’s the sound of her voice that tips me off first. The kind that means we’re about to either speak about something extremely embarrassing or trying on my nerves.

Quickly, I scour my brain for an excuse, already sliding off the couch to escape the room.

“Yeah,” I lie. “I have to go meet Hannah.”

“Where?” Mom folds her hands and watches me like a hawk.

“The mall.” Which is the obvious place.

“About that…” Oh, no. “Are there a lot of boys hanging around?”

I lift my brows. “Around how?”

Mom’s eyes fall down the length of my body and, I swear to God, if she complains about my overly-sized t-shirt and gray sweatpants, I’m going to scream in the middle of this room. “Are you wearing that?”

“Maybe.” My phone buzzes in my hands, giving me the perfect opportunity to make it look as though Hannah is connecting me. “I think this is her.”

Opening my messages, it’s Cal.

CAL: You never answered my question about this summer.

My facial expression must give me away because Mom puts her nose into my business—again. “Did she cancel?”

“Uh, I’m not sure yet.”

“She probably is.” I look up at her, obviously confused on why she’d say that. “I ran into her mother at the grocery store.”

“Okay.”

Mom nervously shifts her weight onto one foot, as if she’s about to tell me someone died or something. “She was caught…with a boy in her bed.”

---