Page 8 of My (Not So) Perfect Plan

“No. I don’t do parties.” She meets my eyes across the cab. “And it’s girl’s night tonight.”

My mind implodes with all sorts of not-quite R rated images.

“Oooooo, sexy,” I smirk at her.

She gets the most confused look on her face while trying not to laugh. “What wasthat?”

“You tell a guy ‘girl’s night’ and we just imagine a bunch of girls pillow fighting in their underwear. Sexy.”

She smacks me on the shoulder, laughing in disbelief. “Ewww! Gross! You did not just imagine me in my underwear!”

I totally did, and it was hot, and now that she mentioned it, I am imagining that again. But I’m also driving so thankfully, it’s not like a detailed thing.

“And pillow fighting in our underwear?” she continues. “Whaaat? Who does that? And why?”

“I don’t know!” I am starting to feel a bit foolish. I don’t know what I thought girl’s night consisted of, really, because I’ve never had sisters or female cousins, or any other girls around really. My female exposure consisted of women who were coming on to me or who were too old to come on to me.

“Well, that’s just a huge no to whatever youthinkwe are going to do.”

“Fine. What are you doing for girl’s night?”

Her eyes bug out and she shakes her head. “Uh uh. You can’t ask me about the sacred rituals of girl’s night. The first rule of girl’s night is ‘never talk about girl’s night.’”

I pull into a parking spot in front of the Sports Complex. There’s still an hour until the game starts at seven and I wonder what she’s going to do until then.

A bunch of the players and their girlfriends were clustered near the picnic table beneath the big oak tree in front of the stadium. Demolition was scheduled for the end of football season, but it was anyone’s game whether it would be finished bynext season, not that I would be here to care. I look over at Claire who is opening her door. I get out and run around to her side.

Her hand fits small and secure in mine as I help her down, my thumb rubs the back of her hand before I realize what I’m doing, but I am rewarded by a shiver from her. She’s definitely not unaffected. A guy could get used to this, I think, moments before she releases my hand.

“You want to wait inside before the game starts?” I ask, shoving my hands in my pockets.

She hefts her back pack up on her shoulder. “Sure.”

“You can leave your stuff in my truck and get it after the game.”

“Um, okay. Tamara is picking me up.”

“I’ll leave my truck unlocked so you can get your stuff if I don’t see you after.” I wait while she tosses her stuff inside and then throw my duffle over my shoulder and walk beside her into the sports complex.

“What did you mean when you don’t do parties?” I ask, just remembering that that is what she had started out saying.

“What I said. I just have too much going on.”

“So, you’ve never been to a party?” I raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“No,” the tips of her ears and the back of her neck turn red, “I have. Like, um, birthday parties and stuff.”

It strikes me that Claire is basically virgin territory – not in the sense of being a virgin, though I am 99% sure she is that too, but in that she’s never experienced all the best parts of being a teenager because she’s so caught up in being this perfect student.

“What?” she asks, seeing the look on my face.

“We are going to have to adjust your lifestyle.”

“Excuseme?”

I can tell from the way her head tilts and her shoulders tense up that I just really pissed her off. I raise my hands defensively. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

But I mean it all the same. Claire Brown needs to live a little, let her hair down, and considering how fun she is to be with, I’m not ashamed to say that I plan on making it my mission in life to keep her in smiles.

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