Page 3 of Just for Fun
“I’m sure mine is fine as well.” I give her a polite smile, and she finally gets the message.
“Wow,” Owen mumbles around another large bite out of his burger. “You’re mean.”
Guilt instantly settles in my chest, and now I have the urge to rush after the waitress and apologize for my behavior. I’ll have to make sure I give her a good tip. Although, that would mess with my weekly budget. But if I skip my morning coffee tomorrow, then it would all balance out. Unless I don’t have coffee at home. Then I would have to go to the store and buy some. Which means I would be spending even more money, which I do have, but I make a plan every week, and I stick to it.
“I was only teasing you, Z.” I jump when my brother touches my hand gently. “You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“But I really was mean to her,” I admit. “It’s because while you two were making googly eyes at each other, I was waiting for you to tell me about this party mom is going to. You were taking too long.”
Admittedly, I sound a bit whiny toward the end, but my patience is at an all time low. I hadn’t foreseen this change in plans for this summer. It throws me off, and I want all the details.
“There’s not much else to say,” Owen shrugs. “Mom would like to go hang out with her friends. I was hoping to go to this other party, too.” He pauses for a second. “And I think you should come with me.”
I press a hand to my chest. “I can’t come to a party where I don’t know anyone, Owen.”
“What are you talking about? You’ll know everyone there,” he tells me. “You’ve met all my friends and their significant others. They’d love to have you.”
I stare at him with obvious skepticism. It’s true that I know his group of friends, but it is not like we hang out or anything. Attending a party where everyone will be there is so out of my comfort zone.
Picking at my sandwich, I wonder what my options are. I don’t really have any. Maybe I could go visit our mom after all, then just stay home alone on the night she goes to her party. But the thought of sitting on her back deck and watching the fireworks by myself doesn’t sound appealing at all.
“You could hang out with your friends,” Owen suggests. “Everyone has something going on for the Fourth, so it should be easy to find something to do.”
My eyes snap up from my chicken sandwich, staring at my brother like he told me to go jump in a lake without a lifesaving vest. Then, I realize with a start that none of my friends mentioned any plans for the holiday weekend. Deep down, I know I didn’t get invited to anything because every time they did invite me in the past, I declined, my excuse always being the same. That I have to go see my mom.
“I don’t really need to do anything,” I shrug, like it’s no big deal. But panic threatens to take over as I process everything. “I got a couple of books I want to read, and I need to get caught up on my cleaning for the summer…”
Owen rolls his eyes at me. “Cleaning for the summer. What the hell does that even mean?”
I pick up the glass of cold water and take a long sip, trying to buy myself some time before answering his question.
“It means that you clean all the things, like a deep cleaning,” I explain.
He lifts an eyebrow in question. “Isn’t that spring cleaning?”
I clear my throat and look away. “Yes,” I agree. “There’s spring cleaning, and then there’s summer cleaning.”
“So we have two cleaning seasons then?” I can tell that he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Why not four?” he prods. “Once a quarter.”
Since I don’t have a good comeback to give, I remain quiet. I take a small bite out of my sandwich and pretend like I am busy chewing on it.
“You can’t do anything out of your comfort zone for nothing, can you?”
It’s in the way he asks that, like he finally realizes that I am so stuck in my routines that it ruins me when I have to make changes. He’s not shaming me for it, but it still annoys me to no end.
“What are you talking about? I can do anything I want.”
Owen watches me with apprehension, almost as if he’s wondering how far he should push me.
“I dare you to come to this party my friends are throwing,” he says.
My mouth goes instantly dry at the thought of being the only one there who is not really part of the group. What am I going to do there, follow my brother around all night?
“You’re already invited,” Owen reminds me. “They all like you…”
“You said earlier they’re scared of me,” I deadpan.
He rolls his eyes at me once again. “They’re scared of asking you out, not ofyou.”
