Page 66 of Your Echo
18Slip || Elliot Moss
STÉPHANIE
“This has been soldout formonths! How did you get this?”
Molly’s eyes are practically popping out of her head as she stares down at the tickets and backstage passes forLa Rentrée.
I was going to bring Jacinthe with me to the concert two days from now, but she bailed at the last minute. Being Sherbrooke Station’s number one fan, I figured Molly would have her own tickets already, but I asked her if she wanted to take Jacinthe’s just in case. It turns out I underestimated how difficult it is to get intoLa Rentrée.
“Ace gave them to me,” I explain.
I’m seriously fearing for the safety of her eyeballs now.
“AceTurnergave youtickets?”
“Yeah, we’ve, um...He’s been coming to meditation a lot, and we’ve gotten close.”
With all the craziness at the dance studio and the time I’ve been spending with Ace, I’ve barely even seen Molly during the past few weeks. She’s taking some summer courses, and our schedules hardly ever line up. We’ve been living together for almost five months now, and I still know next to nothing about her.
“I know I haven’t come off as a very friendly roommate,” I explain, “but maybe we could go together? For some roommate bonding time? I could even introduce you to the band.”
I clearly went overboard. Molly looks like she just forgot how to breathe.
“Just, um, think about it and let me know?” I suggest.
She nods rapidly and then runs off to her room. I’m pretty sure I hear her screaming into a pillow, and I smile to myself.
My phone buzzes on the counter beside me. I pick it up to find a text from Ace:
Dinner tonight?
I tell him I’d like nothing better, but that I have plans already.
What could be more important than dinner with me?
I’m about to let him know that dinner with my mom falls into that category when an idea strikes me. I dial his number before I can talk myself out of it.
“How would you like to meet my mom tonight?” I ask, after we’ve both said hello.
* * *
I’m still shockedhe agreed. I thinkhe’sstill shocked he agreed. Ace sits beside me in the Uber he ordered us, his knuckles white as he grips his knees and stares out the window.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” he grunts.
“You don’t have to be nervous.” I place my hand on top of his. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Actually yeah, it kind of is,” he snaps. “I don’t do things like this. I don’t know how things like this work. I don’t want to lose you just because it turns out your mom doesn’t like guys with tattoos or some shit like that.”
I move my hand away. “You know you didn’t have to come, right?”
He breathes out and turns to face me. “Sorry. That was out of line. I’m just...tense.”
“You’re nervous,” I tease. “You’re nervous to meet my mom. You’re like a seventeen year-old picking a girl up for prom.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he grumbles. “They didn’t have prom at all-boys boarding school.”
