Page 164 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Well, it’s not without reason.”

He chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

I quickly sent Jessica a text and told her that my uncle would be driving me home.

“Before we go, could you do me a huge favor?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I want a picture of you in my phone. Do you mind?”

Aw, how sweet!“No, not at all,” I said.

“Okay, give me a big smile.” He held up his phone, angling it just right.

I tried to smile as naturally as possible—and then came the blinding flash.

“I think I blinked.”

“No, it turned out perfect.” Evan stared at my photo and regarded me. “You’re very photogenic.”

I blushed. “Can I take one of you?”

“On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“We take a picture together.”

He made me smile again as I stood next to him. Evan wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to his buff body.

“Wait—hold it,” he said.

I lowered my phone and looked at him.

“I just remembered something. We have this great-aunt in the family, Aunt Joanie. You can’t help but laugh when you see her pictures in the family photo album because all her facial expressions are the same. She never smiles or laughs. I was taking a photo with her one afternoon, during my thirteenth birthday party, and my mom kept taking picture after picture, wasting my time because Aunt Joanie wouldn’t smile. It was like she was physically incapable of smiling. Finally, I got frustrated, stood up, and told her that a dog’s ass had more facial expressions than her.”

I burst out laughing—and that’s when Evan started taking a bunch of pictures of me.

“Oh my gosh, no!” I said. “I look horrible!”

“Not even close. I told you that story on purpose to get you to laugh up a storm. Would you like to hear the conclusion?”

“Yes.” I giggled some more.

“Well, ironically, after I said that to her, the old bag laughed her ass off.”

“No way!”

“I kid you not. But my mom was pissed at me for being so rude. I was just being honest. Anyway, get your camera ready.” He hung his arm over my shoulder, and we took turns taking pictures on our phones.

“Thanks for that,” I said, putting my cell away in my handbag.

“Don’t mention it.”

“We better go. I don’t want you to be late for work.”

“I don’t care if that house burns down—you’re worth it.”

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