Page 35 of I Almost Do

“Believe me—” She shoots a glance toward the front of the car, then back at me. “—that sucks. Your relationship is already weird.”

I speak in the soothing tone I do when I know I am absolutely not going to say or do the thing she wants me to. “I’ll think about it.”

“Which means you won’t. But you are definitely coming to PA for the spring semester?”

“I’m definitely doing that.”

We’ve pulled up to the brownstone, and Dean is coming around to open the door.

“Are you coming inside?” I ask them.

They both shake their heads.

Bronwyn checks her phone. “Can’t. I have a shift at the youth center.”

“You’re a really good person, Bronnie.”

She rolls her eyes. “No I’m not. I’m a handful. Ask anyone. But if you come to BSU to be my roommate, I promise not to steal your food unless I’m really, really hungry.”

“That’s a very low bar,” I say.

My car door opens in the middle of my words, but it isn’t Dean who’s standing there. It’s James.

He nods at Franki. “Hey, Franki.”

She smiles and gives him a finger wave.

He turns his attention to Bronwyn. “Hello, tequila,” he says, voice dry as the desert.

“Hello, James.” She twinkles at him, and the dimple in her left cheek pops into place.

Now that she’s getting her way, she’s decided to skip the name-calling, apparently.

James puts a hand out to help me from the car and says pleasantly, “She terrifies me when she smiles like that.”

Bronwyn smiles harder as she hands me my packages. “Good.”

I turn back to my blonde friend, who’s about to have control of that privacy screen without adequate supervision.

She says, “I’ll text you later.”

I fake a scowl and whisper, “Back off my driver.”

She smirks and mouths back, “Never.”

Bronwyn’s eyes sparkle as she looks past me to make eye contact with my husband. “By the way, James, ask your wife about middle school.”

14

This Is Me Trying

James

Clarissa is not interested in discussing middle school—whatever that’s about. In fact, she’s not interested in discussing much of anything with me.

I’d planned to ask her to go with me to the animal shelter to find the pet she’d said she wanted. But before I could even fully explain where I was going, she gave me a tight smile and said she wanted to get back to a book she’s reading.

She’s still grieving, of course. But my entire purpose is supposed to be to make her life better. To protect her and make her happy. Instead, I put that bruised look in her eyes.

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