Page 52 of She Used to Be Nice
Avery laughed. “Just another reason I’m going to hell then.”
“Right there with you. I don’t believe in God anymore. It kills my mother and herLord’s name in vainbullshit. I grew up Catholic and everything, but as I got older I was like, why are all the priests pedophiles?”
Avery nodded in agreement. “And then they shame women for having sex with legal, consenting adults. I really bought into the Catholic purity thing growing up. My mom constantly reminded me that the only person she’d ever slept with was my dad, and not until their wedding night.”
Pete scrunched his face. “I bet that’s a mental image you could’ve done without.”
“Definitely,” Avery said with a chuckle. “She made it sound kind of romantic though. Like he was her one and only. I always thought that part of it was sweet. But the religious angle never sat well with me. It made me feel like I needed to apologize to God when I slept with my high school boyfriend. I was so scared of tainting myself with sex.”
Avery tensed. How could she have revealed so much about herself already? But Pete was so open and easy to talk to. It was tough to keep her mouth shut.
“How times have changed,” he joked as he took a piece of bread.
Avery gasped light-heartedly. “Slut shamer!”
“I’m kidding! I also had sex with you in that bathroom. I, too, am a slut.”
Pete placed his white cloth napkin onto his lap. Avery did the same. She forgot that that was proper dinner etiquette.
“Have you noticed that the church is always almost exclusively filled with old people?” he went on. “My dad has a theory that it’s because they’re gonna die soon and need to reserve their spot in heaven.”
“Better there than the fiery pits.” Avery paused dipping a piece of bread in olive oil. “Hold on. Aren’t you not supposed to talk about religion on a first date?”
Pete shrugged. “Whatever. There are no rules.”
“Is that so? Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one who said we did this ‘backward,’ and that you knew what my naked body looked like before you knew my last name. Youloverules.”
Pete’s lips curved into a smile. “I’ll make an exception for you.”
Avery wrinkled her nose. “Cheesy.”
“You love it though.”
“I implied nothing of the sort.”
The waiter came by and set their steaming plate of mozzarella sticks down on the table.
“Nowthat’scheesy,” Pete said, nodding at their appetizer.
“Okay, before we keep doing this, you should know that I despise puns,” Avery said, the seriousness of her voice mostly, but not entirely, in jest. “My boss atMetropolitanloves them, but I will actively not write them in my social copy, even if one is right there.”
Pete laughed. “Noted. I am in full support of finding little ways to make work tolerable.”
“It’s the only way to live.”
“It is.” Pete offered Avery the plate of mozzarella sticks, and she selected one before he grabbed one for himself. “Speaking of, I’ve started idly browsing some audio production job openings. Just seeing what’s out there. But I don’t think I’d ever actually quit my job.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I’d have to cut my salary expectations in half, maybe even less. As soul-sucking as finance can be, I don’t think I can do that yet.”
Avery understood. She didn’t like her jobanddidn’t make a ton of money. At least Pete had one of those covered. “I get it.Money isn’t everything, but it would be naive for anyone to say it didn’t make life easier.”
“Exactly.” Pete sipped his cocktail. “Maybe once I put away more savings, I can start to think about a career in music, which would be the dream. But for now, I’d be an idiot to quit finance.”
Pete noticed Avery’s water glass was low and casually refilled it with the jug on the table. Avery smiled at the gesture.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’d like you no matter how much money you made,” she said.
