Page 39 of Freshmeet
“You don’t know how I feel about that night because you won’t let me explain.” I balled up a napkin and tossed it into my empty bowl.
“Because it doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything anyway.” Sarah jumped up, her purse falling to the floor.
The waitress at the hostess stand fell silent at the outburst. This conversation was getting out of control.
Running a hand down my face, I took a deep breath only to get a lung full of her fucking perfume or whatever the hell made her smell like summer and sunshine, and—fuck me—I was a goner. “Look. Just don’t fuck with my brother, okay?”
Sarah glared at me, and without another word, gathered up her purse and receipt, leaving me alone with our empty plates and the attention of the tables surrounding us.
Not one to be comfortable in the spotlight, I quickly tossed some bills on the table and booked it out of Poppy’s. Lucky me, I was the guy who pissed off Princess Sarah, queen of the sorority girls, goddess of the glacial stare.
EIGHT
DO WHAT YOU WANT AND FUCK THE REST
SARAH
It took a couple of weeks, but John finally said I was a mediocre bartender.
Yay.
On my way to my first shift bartending an all-you-can-drink night, I got a random call from my mother.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Sarah. It’s Mom.”
“Yes, Mom, I know. Your picture pops up when you call. Oh, and there’s this thing called caller ID. We’ve had the technology for decades now.”
“No need to get smart.” She laughed.
I fidgeted with my keys and rocked back and forth on the stairs, my eyes not straying from the door.
“How are you doing, honey? It’s been a while since you called.”
Gee, I wonder why. Couldn’t be because I keep getting sent to voicemail.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy with tutoring, bartending, and the summer program.”
“But you still have time to rest, right?”
Rolling my eyes, I bit the inside of my cheek.
“We just want to make sure you’re ready to finish out your undergrad strong. You know Emmet had a hard last year.”
Emmet’s “hard last year” ended with him getting into an Ivy League law school.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m all set to get my master’s next year.”
She hummed. “I still can’t imagine why you’d want to be a kindergarten teacher.”
“Mom.” I was seconds away from laying it all out there, but it wouldn’t be worth it. She never heard me. “I’ve got to go. I’m on my way to work.”
“Oh.” That one word dripped with every ounce of disappointment she had ever felt about me. “Well, be safe. We don’t want any repeats of this spring, now do we?”
“Bye, Mom.” I hung up before she said anything else. She’d probably call back and leave a message about phone etiquette, but I was beyond caring.
Pushing through the door of the Wel, a smile immediately found its way onto my face. Kat and Mona had one of our sorority sisters trapped in a dancing sandwich. Emily towered over them, laughing and half-heartedly trying to get away. “You-you guys. Stop it.”
