Page 12 of Never Kiss and Tell

Maybe that’s the problem, I think, chewing on my tongue. Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up where I have if I had learned to stand up for myself. I admire Andi and her ability to do whatever she wants, no fucks given. No one questions her because she’s been this way her whole life. I’ve always done what I was told, mostly so I can get on Mom’s good side, on the rare days that she actually has one. I can only imagine the fit she’ll be throwing when she realizes I left town and didn’t tell her.

Okay, is it immature and highly irresponsible of me? Yeah, probably. Did I feel like I was going to suffocate if I spent another second being Mom’s perfect little doll, dressing up like she wanted, marrying the man she wanted and even eating the food she wanted? Hell, yes.

“So, how is school?” I ask as Andi maneuvers her big BMW through the busy city streets. Millions of little restaurants pass by and I wonder if they all secretly serve the same food, just under different names.

“Well,” she lets out a breath through her teeth. “I’ve maxed my schedule so I can get a few extra classes in before thehoneymoon.”

“Sounds unbearable,” I grimace, leaning back in the seat. I hated college, save for living with Andi. It felt . . . stuffy. Everyone was so serious unless they were at a frat party and even then, all anyone wanted to talk about was their next big move. Being the oddball out, I couldn’t participate in those discussions because I had no idea what my next big move was. Then, I got engaged to Drew straight out of college and Mom roped me into her lifestyle and before I knew it, an entire year had gone by and I still didn’t have a job.

When I approached Mom about possible career opportunities, she gave me the same line she always has.Focus on the wedding, Bailey. You don’t have time for a career right now.When I found a job working for a finance company in the city, Mom cut that short, demanding Christian go with me and stand watch in my office. It was so embarrassing and my boss didn’t like it, so I quit after a week.

“I know,” Andi concedes. “I don’t know what made me want to go back to school. Sometimes I think I’m crazy.” Andi excelled in college. She always knew what her next three big moves were. Get the degree, help run the restaurant, and now, study interior design, though I’m not sure how the three of those coincide.

“You aren’t crazy,” I interject. “You’re brilliant. Do you know how much I would kill to have my life figured out the way you do? All I have is a pipe dream and a crazy . . . family.” I cut myself off before I can say mother. Andi’s still touchy about losing her mom, rightfully so. I had only met her one time and from what I knew of her, she was a wonderful lady. Charlie hadbeen the one to find their mom, gone after a long battle with cancer. I know it broke him, too.

Andi shrugs, turning onto the highway. “Oh, how’s the writing coming? I haven’t asked in a couple weeks.”

I groan and throw my head back against the headrest. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Oh, come on. What’s wrong?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m what’s wrong. Whoever thinks writing a book is easy should be thrown off a cliff.”

Andi snickers. “Of course, it’s not easy. It’s like having someone else inside your head. Not only do you have to keep track of their life, you have to keep track of your own, too.”

“And all their problems. Hell, I have toinventproblems. It’s like playing God in my own little world of five thousand words.”

“See,” Andi points out. “Five thousand is good. It’s a worthy start and should be celebrated.”

I hold up my hand. “Please, no autographs, today.”

“I’m serious,” she laughs, pulling off the interstate and right into the heart of New Orleans.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“Well, I have to go to the florist. I don’t know what to choose, so I was thinking you could help me? Oh, and we can go shopping. And eat.” She pauses to catch her breath. “There’s just so much I want to do.”

“We have five weeks,” I laugh, a small pang hitting me in the chest. Five weeks seems like a long time, but when you really think about it, it’s only thirty-five days. Andi will be busy with school for at least half of those. That means we really don’t havemuch time at all.

“Yeah,” Andi murmurs, not amused. “Five weeks of me working and wedding planning.”

I place my hand over hers. “Don’t worry. We’ll make time. I’m here to help.”

“Thank God,” Andi beams. “At least you’ll be able to write when I’m gone.”

I wince. I haven’t written in over two months.

“What’s the point?” I grumble. “I’ve been working on it since I broke up with Drew. The book should be done, by now. I’ve barely written anything.”

“It will come. Maybe being down here will help you get a new perspective.”

I doubt it. Between helping Andi and dodging her older brother, I imagine I’ll be pretty busy.

“Has Drew contacted you again?” Andi asks, her tone suddenly clipped. Andi never liked Drew and I could never understand why. I guess her intuition is just akin to that of a Disney fortune teller, because she was right.

“No,” I reply, instantly feeling guilty for the lie. I have this idea that if I tell anyone about the things that Drew has been sending me, they will yell at him and it will only get worse. Or someone, like my mother, will tell me he just misses me and I should try to connect with him.

Fuck that. I would rather walk through a bed of hot coals covered in razor blades than wait around for Drew to love me again.

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