Page 71 of Puck My Stepbrother
“But it’s not official.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“What, are you calling me a liar or something?”
“It’s not that I’m calling you a liar. I’m just saying I know you’re not really in a couple with him. You wouldn’t be able to with me in the picture.”
He gave me an ugly look.
“And he’s coming to the wedding,” he said. “He’ll be sitting at the head table and everything. That means you’ll need to behave.”
“When have I ever not behaved?”
“You’re not being serious, are you?”
“Of course I am.”
“Look, I’m not going to sit here and discuss this with you. I don’t love you, Levi. I never have. I’m in love with Jeff.”
“Quinn, you’re not even being?—”
“You can try to dictate my feelings to me all you want, but that doesn’t change anything. You’ll just have to find some other ginger nerd to fuck.”
And he left the room. I reached out, trying to grab his arm, but I missed. Part of me wanted to chase after him, but I knew I couldn’t. He’d put up a fight no matter what. He was as strong-willed as I was.
How would I ever win him over?
27
QUINN
The wedding was going to be a disaster. No, I didn’t think that the wedding itself was going to bomb. We’d figured out everything that needed to be planned. Neither my dad nor my stepmother would get cold feet and call the whole thing off. I even felt reasonably sure nuclear war wouldn’t break out. I worried about worse things, like what Levi might do. He’d see me there with Jeff, and it would drive him crazy. Part of me hoped it would, to show him I was serious, but I also understood what could happen with guys like him once they got going.
Levi could make a scene. He could ruin everything for our parents. At that point, I figured he might not care about anything anymore.
When I went downstairs, I found my dad stretched out on the couch instead of Levi. Thank God the room was safe. I shuffled over to the fridge, grabbed a can of Pepsi, and cracked it open before he stopped me.
“Come on over here, Quinn,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”
I knew better than to refuse Dad, so I sat in the chair across from him.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Oh, things in general.”
“Are you getting excited about the wedding?” I asked.
“Of course I am. I never thought I’d have the chance to be married again, but here we are. Are you excited?”
“Of course I am.”
Dad eyed me like he knew something was up.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“Of course I am. I’m really happy for you.”
