Page 13 of Meant for Stone (Meant For)

I scroll down my favorites until I reach his name and press the FaceTime button. It rings three times before his face fills the screen.

He is facedown on his bed, his head leaning over the mattress. “Are you sleeping?”

“Dude,” he groans and rolls to his back. “I feel like someone kicked every single bone in my body twice.”

“I skipped my workout,” I say because the one thing I do every single day is work out. During the off-season, I usually get in two workouts a day.

“You must be dying,” he replies.

“I had practice this morning and got my ass chewed by my coach,” I tell him as the timer goes off on the stove. “Jay and James said if I fucked up one more time, I would have to pay them money.” He shakes his head at that. “I’m eating, and then I’m going to bed.” Grabbing the oven glove, I take out the tray before grabbing a plate to put it on. “Hey, let me ask you. How do you get a girl to go out with you?”

“I usually use my words and say, ‘hey, want to go out with me?’” I roll my eyes at his response.

“What if she says no, but she really means yes?” I ask, and he laughs.

“If she said no, chances are she really doesn’t want to go out with you.” He throws the covers off him as he gets up and walks out of his dark bedroom, the light from the windows making him squint his eyes.

“I think she does.” I grab a fork and scoop a forkful of rice. “If she didn’t want to go out with me, she wouldn’t answer me.”

“Who are you talking about?” he asks, opening his own fridge.

“Ryleigh,” I say, and he just stares at me with big eyes.

“Are you insane? She’s practically family. How are you going to date her? Then what?” he rapid-fires at me. “Then you have to see her at every family get-together.” He shakes his head. “Why would you want to do that to yourself?”

“Well, for one, she’s fucking gorgeous.” I wait for him to say she isn’t, and when he doesn’t, I point my fork at the screen. “I’ll slice under your feet.”

“She’s not my type,” he informs me, and I almost believe him, “but go on, tell me why you want to date her.”

“She’s funny, she’s smart, she’s an amazing kisser.” I stop talking when he gasps.

“You made out with her?” he asks. I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted it to be just mine. “At the wedding?”

“No, sadly not at the wedding. The last time I saw her at the house, I cornered her in the bathroom, and, well, I couldn’t not kiss her.”

“Six months ago?” He laughs at me. “You made out with her six months ago, and now you want to date her?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m guessing you have no advice to give me.”

“I wouldn’t have waited six fucking months to ask her out after I stuck my tongue in her mouth.” He gawks at me while drinking.

“This was enlightening,” I tell him, grabbing a couple of pieces of string beans. “I’m going to call Dad and see what he says.”

“Let me know what he says about this.” He shakes his head. “Six months.” He hangs up on me, and I call Dad right away.

“Hey there,” he answers after one ring. “What’s up, kid?”

“Dad, you know I’m in my thirties, right?” I point out to him.

“Are you or are you not my kid?” he counters, and I’m not going to get into this discussion with him.

“Okay, well, I need advice, old great one,” I say. “There is this girl I’m interested in.”

“Go on.” He smiles.

“What can I do to get her to go out with me?” I hold up my hand before he talks. “And before you say ask her, I already did.”

“Well, when I wanted your mother to go out with me, I showed up at her work unannounced,” he shares.

---