Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(26)

Faintly, I hear Erik Gunderson in the background say "Dayyuumm...."

I stay rooted to the spot waiting on his answer. We're both breathing heavy, and I know from past experience what Rick looks like when he wants to punch someone in the face. It's the same look he's giving me now.

"Why do you even care?" He finally asks with a snort. "If you're trying to get in her pants, you're wasting your time. That chick ain't given it up for nobody." He looks around for support, trying to make our friends laugh but failing miserably.

"I'm sorry, but it seems like you're not hearing me. Stay. Away. From. Molly."

Finally, he gives a barely imperceptible nod.

I collect my stuff and strut away, conceited ass that I am.

***

"Mom, I have to talk to you about something," I mumble gruffly as I pull out the bar stool at the kitchen counter. My mom is standing at the stove with her back to me, stirring what smells like vegetable stir fry. She taps the wooden spoon on the pan and turns to face me, laying the spoon down. Wiping her hands on a towel, she comes over and leans her elbows on the counter.

"This sounds serious, is everything okay?"

Let's see, how do I put this...

"Oh man. I don't even know how to say this." I run my fingers through my shaggy hair as my mom leans over and grabs my forearm.

"Sweetheart, now you're scaring me. What is it? Tell mom."

"I don't want you to be pissed at me."

"Weston Richard McGrath, you tell me right now what is wrong or you're going to be in a shit storm of trouble young man."

I let out the long breath that I'd been holding and count to 3 before I say, "I have a date this weekend. I... I asked someone on a date."

My mom stares at me slack jawed.

Ah shit, I've rendered her speechless.





Chapter Eleven





MOLLY


"Better to arrive late, than to arrive ugly!" - Darcy Gilmore, blogger



The rest of the week has crawled by at a snail's pace, and thank God it's finally Saturday night. Unfortunately, I'm freaking out. Today was the worst: I literally could not focus the entire day because of the text I received first thing when I woke up:

Weston: i have practice but will text u after

And he did. All morning I waited for that promised text, shuffling around the house. I carried my phone around in the palm of my hand like it was my job. And when Weston's text finally came, unfortunately, I was sitting next to my mom on the couch.

Talk about embarrassing. Because you know moms want to talk about everything once they get a whiff of gossip. I ended up having to tell her every tiny detail leading up to this point.

Oh lord, I could throw up right now. I have managed to toss almost every article of clothing from my closet onto my floor in a fit of 'so many clothes and nothing to wear.'

Where is Jenna? She's supposed to be here helping me! It's 5:00 - Weston will be here in an hour. I race to the window and throw back the curtains. Great. Her car is in the driveway. Opening my bedroom door, I holler, "Jenna, get your butt up here! I need you!"

"Okay pretty girl, calm down," Jenna laughs as she trots down the hallway towards my room. She's got on bright green pants and a gray sweatshirt, and I notice she's dipped the ends of her long blonde locks in pink Kool-Aid. When the heck did she do that? I just saw her last night...

She stops in the threshold of my room eyeing the clothes that have been strewn everywhere, and her eyes get real wide. "What the...?"

I stand there helplessly, arms spread in desperation. "Help," I squeak out.

"Oh my god Molls, you have to get a grip. Let's start by putting this all away so I can at least see what you have to work with. Ugh, girl, you are crazy." Yeah, you heard right; the girl wearing neon pants is calling me crazy. She bends at the waist and starts picking up clothes, placing them back on the hangers that have been haphazardly thrown on the ground. "Hmm," She mumbles in thought. "This is kind of cute." She lays a striped navy tank top on my bed.

"Jenna, its cold out!" I whimper.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes..."

"Then start helping me clean up this mess you made. Sheesh. What am I, your mother?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous." I start biting my thumb nail, and almost immediately Jenna slaps the hand out of my mouth and grabs me by the shoulders. She gives me a firm shake.

"You look at me. Look!" She points at her eyes with two fingers. "Luce, you're funny and gorgeous. That great hunk of a hockey star is lucky to be going out with you tonight. Now get it together before I slap you."

"Do I have to wear something so tight?" I start whining again as my best friend cleans my room.

"No, but you have to give him a little peek at the goods. Come on, get real. He's a guy, and you have a great rack."

"But what if we end up go-carting or something?"

Jenna turns and levels me with a stare. Okay, never mind. "Wear a turtleneck on your own time, okay Gidget?" Newsflash: for those of you not familiar, Gidget was a television character in the 60s and she was kind of a giant nerd. "Here. We'll do these for sure." Jenna pulls out a pair of dark stretch skinny jeans. "If you're lucky he'll slap your ass a few times."