About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(12)

I hit send then waited.

Maya: Ha! @ letting the boys breathe. Ew. Um, neither. No flowers or candy. I prefer something original. Flowers are so 1800s and/or funeral. Candy is just sad. And although I love my mom…I’ll take the traffic :/ Okay, now me. a) Dogs or cats? b) Malaysia or France?

I chuckled at her response then typed quickly.

Me: I don’t have any pets, but I’d be a cat guy. I love dogs, but they’re too needy, and I have commitment issues ;) Also, I’ve been to both, and Malaysia kicks ass. Ooh, this is getting interesting. 1) Breakfast or dinner? 2) Superman or Spiderman?

I suddenly wasn’t tired anymore.

Maya: Breakfast, for sure. I could eat a dozen pancakes at a time, as long as they’re drowned in butter and syrup. And neither, I was more a Wolverine gal. Mmmm, pancakes. Great. Now I’m hungry.

I knew she hadn’t meant it as a hint, but I took the inch she gave.

Me: I know a place downtown. I could pick you up? We could eat and question each other face-to-face…

I predicted what she’d say before she said it.

Maya: Goodnight, Quinn x

I sighed and shook my head. It seemed I was a pushy bastard.

Me: Night, Maya. Sweet dreams x

It was ten days till Sunday. I fought to roll my eyes at myself. I was counting down the days. Talk about sad.

I needed to get out more.





Chapter nine


Mia



“I know you’ve only been here a few days, sweetie, but would it kill you to visit more often?” asked my mom in that guilt-tripping way only a mother can conjure.

“I don’t have a car yet, Ma. I promise to visit you four…no, two times a week when I get a car,” I uttered while touching her shoulder in a placating gesture.

We moved around each other in the kitchen in a most comfortable way. While she made sandwiches, I opened the pantry and fished out a bag of potato chips. The moment I did, I thought of Quinn. So there I stood, staring at some chips, smiling like an idiot. Shaking my head to clear it, I took the juice out of the fridge and placed it on the counter.

Mom kissed my cheek as she passed me. “Well, I’m glad you’re home, Mia. I missed you.”

Then I really did feel guilt.

My mother was a sweet woman, a kind, God-fearing woman, who went to church once during the week and on Sundays too. But sometimes, she was just too much. I preferred to remain drama-free and, not surprisingly, my time away at college and away from Mom was perfectly lacking in excitement.

Her drama usually came in the form of being too mothering, too needy, and trying to set me up with every man she deemed good enough. To this day, I had yet to attend a single date my mother had organized, and she still persisted. However, there was that one time I came home from college to find an extra addition at the table. Poor Marty. I spent the evening apologizing to him with my eyes. Needless to say, I never saw him again.

We sat at the table, and while Mom served the sandwiches, I opened the bag of potato chips. Mom poured our drinks and we started to eat. She watched me carefully with her hawk-eye vision. “Have you lost more weight?”

Chewing slowly, I nodded.

She sighed. “I don’t think that’s healthy, Mia.”

I fought to roll my eyes. This was one of those overbearing times. “I started to lose weight because my doctor told me I had started to develop sleep apnea, Mom. That’s a very dangerous condition caused by being overweight. He told me what I needed to lose, and I haven’t even reached my goal weight yet.” She eyed me still, so I reassured her, “I’m the healthiest I’ve been. And I feel good.”

She almost pouted. “I thought you looked very sweet when you were husky.”

Then I did roll my eyes. “I wasn’t husky, Ma. I was fat.”

The front door opened. “Ma?”

Harry was here. I silently thanked God for helping me share the mother-load, pun intended.

Mom stood and beamed. “We’re in the kitchen, honey. Come sit. I’ll make you some lunch.”

Harry walked through the door wearing his basketball gear. He spotted me and waltzed over, snatching the other half of my sandwich off my plate and eating half of it in one bite.

I guarded the half in my hands by eating quickly and garbling, “Hey!”

Harry garbled back. Stuffing the last piece in his mouth, he somehow muttered, “C’mon, Mia. I’m so hungry.” I understood what he said, even though it came out, ‘G’mon, M’a. I’mf ser ‘ungry.’

Taking a big bite of my sandwich, Harry went to snatch the remainder away, but I slapped his hand. He turned to Mom. “Ma, Mia hit me.”

Without looking up from her sandwich-making, Mom muttered distractedly, “Mia, be nice to your brother.”

He held out his hand for my sandwich. I took the bag of chips from the table and threw them at him. He was a monster when he was hungry. Taking a handful of chips, he shoved them into his mouth, moaning and crunching away.

My phone vibrated on the table. I checked it discreetly.

Quinn: What’s the deal with ‘bless you?’ I mean, a person sneezes and you say ‘bless you.’ Do we even have that kind of authority?

I snorted a laugh, choking on my sandwich. Coughing until my eyes watered, I sipped at my juice, ignoring the piece of bread lodged in my nasal cavity, and responded.