Page 30 of We Can't Be Friends

Ten minutes in my phone buzzes.

LIAM: How’d the date go?

She was nice

GEORGE: Nice?

GEORGE: You’ve never called a date nice

LIAM: Take it this one’s out

Any advice?

LIAM: Don’t ask me, I’ve been in love with the same girl for six years

GEORGE: I’m still trying to figure out women every day

What happened to college us?

My phonedouble buzzes. A new text and a call from my little sister. I open our group text, before answering Audrey’s call.

GEORGE: Boys do go to Jupiter to get more stupider

“You scared her off?” Audrey questions me immediately.

“I did not scare her off.”

“She’s already called her mom, who has called our mom, who I am listening to huff and puff cleaning the kitchen.Cleaning.”

“You’re at home?”

“Moot point here.” There’s a pause. “Fine, yes, if you have to know, I come home every so often. The laundry room is better,andI can never get the right combination for the fabric softener. Lucinda”—our parent’s next door neighbor—“leaves me some.” Audrey says, quicker than a racehorse.

I snort a laugh.

“Anyways. Samantha spilled. You either really suck at dating or really don’t want to be in a relationship.”

I do not suck at dating. If I wanted to date someone, I would. Right?

“The latter. You already know that, Auds.”

“I also know that people believe in the Loch Ness monster, and that’s ridiculous, just like you.”

“Why are you calling?”

There’s a closing of a door and the sound of a washing machine churning echoing through the line.

“Because you’re my brother—”

“Favorite,” I add.

“Do you want a ribbon for that?” Her sarcasm stretches the Atlantic. “What was wrong with Samantha?”

Nothing. Everything.

She’s very fit. Every definition of a beautifulgirl, but that was it.

We had nothing in common, and that’s not her fault. She was raised to be a trophy wife. Another female told to sit still, shoulders back, talk less, and look pretty. Samantha was molded to be an image of poise and passivity.

---