Page 117 of Not Fooling Anyone

“Me too.”

He gives me one more quick kiss, then jogs down the path toward the math building, shouting to no one in particular, “My girlfriend loves me!”

He gets a few answering claps and whoops, people looking at me too, but for once, I’m okay with the attention. If he’s happy, then I am too.

Besides, I’ve got more pressing things to worry about.

Like getting his family to like me.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

LEXIE

“Everything’s going to be fine,”Ethan says for the hundredth time, turning onto a residential street with green lawns and two-car garages. Very firmly middle-class.

“I know.” But that doesn’t change the fact that my armpits are sweating as if I recently ran a triathlon. “What are your parents’ jobs?” I ask, wiping my palms on my jeans again.

“Dad’s an assistant grocery store manager and Mom’s a school administrator.”

“Where were they born?”

He breathes out a sigh. “You don’t have to memorize facts about them. This isn’t an interview.”

“I know,” I repeat. Not that I’m really getting the message. Savannah is the type of girl you bring home to meet your parents, not me.

He slows near a two-story gray house with a big bay window in the front, parking behind a truck. “Looks like Scott and Jacob are here, but not Jordan,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “It figures he’d be late to his own dinner.”

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He pauses in getting out of the car. “Hmm?”

“You seem annoyed by him.”

“Yeah, because he’s annoying. I mean, look at who he’s interested in. That should tell you everything you need to know right there.”

I hide my smile with my hand.

“I love him, but he’s always been that stereotypical pesky little brother. Jacob’s way better.”

Maybe all families aren’t as functional as sitcoms led me to believe.

He takes my hand as we enter the house, leading me down a hallway toward the kitchen where a tall woman with dark hair the same color as Ethan’s is chopping a head of lettuce at a center island.

“Hey, Mom,” Ethan says casually, glancing around. “Where is everyone?”

She continues chopping, focused on her task. “In the garage. Dad got a new riding lawn mower.”

“Oh, cool.”

She rolls her eyes, then seems to notice me, setting down her knife. “You must be Lexie,” she says warmly, instantly putting me at ease. Ethan must get his charm from her.

“Yes, hi.” I clear my throat, getting rid of the frog in there. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I’m unsure what to do, whether I should offer a handshake or hug or stay where I am. What do normal people do in situations like this?

“You want to see a lawn mower?” Ethan asks me, and I have to suppress the urge to elbow him in front of his mother.

“Not really.” Why would he think I’d be interested in that?

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