Page 68 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

I feel like I’ve been tricked. Surely, I should still be mad. We’ve been fighting about this since Wednesday. Six sentences seem like a very quick resolution to a four-day argument, and it’s not like he hasn’t said those things to me before. He’s been apologizing since Wednesday. I don’t know what was different now, but I feel like today was the first time I actuallyheardit. “Where do you want to go?”

“Halloween party...at Trevor’s house this time.”

“Who’s Trevor?”

“My lab partner.”

“Is he a fun guy, or is this going to be a lame party?”

“He’s a little nerdy, but he’s great. Can you stop stalling and give me an answer?”

I leave him hanging for a little longer. “Fine.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

I toss my phone on my bed, not entirely sure of how I feel. The fact that it was resolved so quickly makes me feel like I was overreacting all this time when I know I had every right to be upset. It’s like he played some Jedi mind trick on me. But then I realize what’s different. He made it all about him and what he did wrong. He didn’t blame me or use my actions to justify his reactions. And I like the fact that he can be the bigger person and apologize so easily. I need to take tips because that is something my stubborn ass is incapable of doing.

Walking to my closet, I rummage through it to find something I can turn into a costume. Eventually, I decide onTomb Raider. After I shower, shave, and brush my teeth, I pull on a pair of camouflage shorts, black knee-high boots, and a black halter top. I braid my hair and keep my makeup as natural as possible.

Scrolling through my phone, I find my mother’s number. I call her to tell her that I’m going to stay over at Lana’s house so we can work on an assignment together. She’s out having coffee with the girls today. It’s the first time she’s been out socially since my dad passed away, so she’s in an exceptionally good mood and says yes almost immediately. I hate lying to her, but she’s so strict sometimes, and studying is the only excuse good enough for me to stay at a friend’s house. At ten to six, I’m nervous and anxious, and I call the one person who can talk me down.

“Hi, Tommy,” I say as soon as he answers.

“IzzyB! How’re you doing? How was the party last night?”

“That’s a discussion for another day. So much to tell you, but I can’t focus on that now. Dylan called and he...well, he asked me out again...and I said yes.”

“I thought you were cutting him out of your life.”

“Also a story for another day. So, now I don’t know what to do. Should I play hard to get, or should I?”

“Don’t play games,” he cuts in. “Just be frank about what you want and what you don’t. Men are simple creatures, Izzy. They don’t know how to read between the lines. They don’t know how to take hints. Be direct and you should be fine.”

“It can’t be that simple.”

“It is. Women overcomplicate things. All a guy wants is a partner who can stimulate his mind, fill his stomach, and satiate his dick. If he can findoneperson who satisfies all three organs, he’ll marry that person. We’re that basic. Games and manipulation will get you nowhere.”

“Okay, thanks for the advice. Oh, and thanks for swapping with me this weekend. I’ll work the next two weekends to pay you back. See you Monday?”

“Yep, and I want full details.”

“Of course. And?” I stop when I hear a car door and peep outside. “Shit, he’s here. Chat later.”

I check myself one last time in the mirror, then huff out a few breaths into my palm to make sure it’s still minty fresh. Why am I so nervous? Going on a date with a boy is nothing new for me, but tonight I have to beme. I can’t hide behind alcohol, and I can’t use sex to make myself more appealing. He said he wants to compromise, and I don’t even know what he means by that. The uncertainty of the entire situation has my stomach in a ball of knots.

“Just be yourself,” I say, taking one more deep breath. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I walk downstairs and out the front door only to find Dylan talking to Scott and Cat. I’m not sure what Scott is still doing here, but he seems to have made himself even more at home because he’s sitting on the porch steps with my sisteron his lap. I reluctantly decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, so I don’t make a comment about it.

Very awkwardly, my eyes shift slowly over to Dylan, and I have to fight a smile because, damn, this boy is cute...hot. Whatever. He’s just all of it. I don’t know who he’s supposed to be, but he’s wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt. It’s so tight I can see the outline of every muscle on his chest and abs. His biceps are just drool-worthy and his face...Like, it’s not even fair to be that good-looking.

“Hi,” I say.

His gaze flicks between my breasts and my eyes as if he’s trying to focus on the one but the other keeps getting his attention. “Hi,” he greets back. “Lara Croft tonight?”

“Yeah. Um...are you ready to go?”

“Yep.”

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