Page 72 of The Invitation
If he makes fun of me for being nice, I’ll deck him.
My stomach tightens as I type.
Me: To be honest, I had a REALLY great time. I never would’ve done it if it weren’t for you. I think it helped jostle me out of a funk that I’ve been trying to snap out of for a while.
Me: It was also very sweet of you to have remembered that I wanted to go skating. Thank you. I hope you had fun, too.
Ripley: You’re welcome.
I sigh.
Me: So YOU didn’t like it?
Ripley: You can’t read tone.
My lips twist in annoyance, although it’s borderline funny.
Ripley: I’m glad we went, too. It was fun. It would’ve been more fun if you’d fallen, and I could’ve laughed at you. But you surprised us both by staying on your skates and picking up the concept really fast.
Me: Would you really have let me fall?
His response comes right away.
Ripley: No.
I pace through the house. His response was immediate. No hesitation.
My heart tugs in my chest. “Why do you have to be so damn confusing?”
Me: Ever thought of going into acting? Because you’re pretty great at it.
Ripley: I learned from the best.
Me: Who?
Ripley: You.
I bite my lip and stare at the words like they’ll suddenly make sense. I can’t figure out if he means that he thinksI’macting—which I am, but also, I’m not.
I don’t know where to go from here, and the tension gathers in the back of my neck.
Me: I got a job today, by the way. I start in two weeks. It might interfere with some of our filming, I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.
Ripley: Congrats. That’s great, Peaches.
Me: Thanks.
Ripley: I’ll see you Saturday. Wear sneakers and sunscreen.
Me: Will do. See you then.
I wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t.
Wear sneakers and sunscreen.
I sigh.
The devil just might be taking me to hell.
