Page 57 of Come As You Are

Salem

I keep telling you, Skeevy, that trick does not work.

Sabrina

Plz. Begging.

Evie

If this is an elaborate plan to save me from my own loneliness, I really do not need it.

Which is mostly true, but I’m intrigued; I’ve read like five pages of my book in the last two hours, and I am b-o-r-e-d. And yeah, okay, maybe my brain keeps drifting over to what everyone else is doing, and what it’s like to be sitting in the auditorium-turned-dining-room in the Student Center, poking at pale chicken breast and limp salad along with everybody else.

Sabrina

Uh, no.

Mom is already getting mad about texting. gg see you soon

If my boredom weren’t already getting the better of me, my curiosity would be, so even though I feel I am going to deeply regret this, I pull myself out of bed and throw on jeans and the most decent shirt I can find. Then I dab on a little makeup, try to coax my curls into something a little less bedhead-y, and thread in a pair of earrings. Greentree is a small town, and it’s been a long time since I’ve met a friend’s parents for the first time. I feel like I should look nice, even if I don’t quite know why.

Evie

Where are you sitting?

No answer. Guess their momreallydidn’t like them texting at the table. Oh well. I make my way into the auditorium and start picking my way around the tables, searching for a crew that looks like the Addams Family, when suddenly there’s a gasp, a flash of blond hair in my face, a wave of floral perfume, and the squeeze of someone clearly trying to kill me.

Before I can figure out what the hell is going on, the woman holds me at arm’s length, a huge smile spreading across her face as she looks me over from head to toe. “It’s so nice to finally meet Sammy’s girlfriend!”

What the hell,I mouth at Sabrina as her mother leads me to their table a few feet away; the fact that she couldn’t even stay seated to keep watch is only one of many, many things blowing my mind right now.

I’m sorry. Please go with it,she mouths back. I glance at Salem, who has a fake smile on his face that doesn’t quite go with the look in his eyes that says he knows dinner will be followed by his execution. There’s an empty seat next to him, presumably for me, and I slide into it, immediately digging my fingernails into his thigh. He must’ve expected it, because he grits his teeth but doesn’t make a sound.

“Sammy, aren’t you even going to say hi?” Mrs. Grayson asks, retaking her own seat. “Evie, I’m so glad you could come to dinner. Sammy said you were studying, but I knew you’d make it here so we could get to meet you.” She covers my hand with her freckled one, and I’m struck by the fact that she bears absolutely no resemblance to the twins. “Sammy tells me you workveryhard.”

I’m workingveryhard on not choking every time she says “Sammy,” that’s for sure. But as long as I’m here, I may as well have some fun with this. “I do,” I say, nodding. “Sammy and I study together all the time. He’s such a good listener when he needs things explained to him.”

“Which isn’t often,” Salem says through gritted teeth. “But yeah, we make a good team.”

God, it feels like he practiced this.Didhe practice this? Was the whole invite at breakfast the day I told them my parents weren’t coming part of this plan? I have so many questions. But now is clearly not the time, because their mom has even more, and I am gettingallof them.

Yes, I’m from New Hampshire originally.

No, I don’t know where I want to go to college yet. Of course Dartmouth would be great, but yes, it is very competitive.

No, my parents couldn’t make it—they had to work. Bank branch manager and paralegal. Yes, I also have a sister. A year older. Not sure about college yet either. Maybe UNH, or Radleigh University.

By the time the third degree is over—or at least takes a break for the welcome speech—the Grayson parents probably know more about me than my own do. I kept waiting for Salem to break in, but he just sat there, nodding along as if I were fascinating, because apparently acting is on his list of talents as well. I wasn’t, in fact, particularly interesting, and yet the Graysons are looking at me like I’m the second coming. It’s both weird and such a nice change from the looks I got from my parents in the few months before I came here that I haven’t even stuck a fork in Salem’s leg yet for making me do this without warning or explanation.

Then again, I have a much better idea.

“Gosh, I’ve been talking so much about myself that I haven’t even gotten to askyouany questions,” I say to Mrs. Grayson, clasping my hands on the table. “I amdyingto know what Sammy was like as a little boy. Hedidmention being very late to potty training.”

“I did no such—”

“He told you that?” Mr. and Mrs. Grayson exchange a deep laugh, and now it’s my turn to feel claws digging into my thigh. “He must really like you,” Mr. Grayson adds.

“I know it’s still early,” I say with a happy sigh, retrieving Salem’s grasping hand and twining it with mine on the table in their full view, “but we really are serious about each other. As I’m sure he’s told you.”

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