Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(56)

1. The time Erica Pederson cheated off my math test in 5th grade and I got in trouble for it. To this day I still can't walk by her in the hall without curling my lip.

2.The time my Nan made me a pig costume for Halloween and my parents forced me to wear it... and I was TWELVE.

3.The time Jenna drew a mustache on my face with Sharpie during a sleepover and it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I scrubbed. We had family pictures the next day, and I was grounded for a week.

4.Just for dramatic effect, I'm going to repeat the fact that my parents made me wear a pig costume out in public when I was twelve, which we all know if a pivotal point in a young girls life. I could easily have been traumatized by this...

The first thing I want to do, oddly enough, is call my brother. The girly, prideful part of me seriously wants Matthew to come home and kick Weston's ass. Maybe rough him up a bit.

Or at least threaten to.

I think that might make me feel better. Right? Ugh, who am I trying to kid? It would make me feel awful because I don't hate the guy.

I love him.

All the way home, Jenna sits in the passenger seat of the Jeep, and she hasn't said much (which we all know is so not like her) but I can definitely hear her muttering under her breath about 'all men are creeps' and 'she should have seen this coming from a guy so hot he could melt ice cream from his hotness.'

Yeah, riveting stuff.

I adjust my seat and shift gears, tuning her out and listening to the sound of my engine and the wind as we cruise down Maple Street, through town, then out onto the country road that leads to my house.

Finally, unable to stand it (because I know Jenna is just dying to unleash on me), I say "So. Spill. Tell me what you're really thinking." I take a side long look at her, and she's twirling her blonde hair between her neon pink finger tips. The shiny silver thumb ring she's wearing catches the sun, and at first she shakes her head like she's got nothing to say.

But I know better, and so I wait.

"I just don't understand it." Jenna turns her body so she's shifted in her seat, facing me. "Why is he doing this? I thought you had this all locked up. Instead, he's being a douche, just like typical guy."

I tap on the steering wheel and nod. "Well... I guess it just wasn't enough." My words come out just barely above a whisper, sort of raspy.

"Okay, whatever Molly. He can't be one way when you're alone then act like a total dick when he's in public. 'F' that shit." The wind whips around us and Jenna watches me for a few seconds before adding. "So... what are you going to do if he calls?"

I laugh almost bitterly. "He won't call. He's never called."

"Okay, what are you going to do if he texts."

Good question. "I have no idea."

"Well you better figure it out, because if I know guys - and I do know guys - he is totally going to come crawling back, Molly. And when he does, I want you to be prepared." She flops back in the passenger seat with a loud sigh. "Ugh. This sucks. You didn't even get laid."

A short burst of nervous laughter comes out of my mouth as a response to her outrageous comment. "Like that was my whole objective. You are such a pig!"

Uh, yeah - like the sex thing didn't totally cross my mind.

"I'm serious Molly, you totally got robbed."

"I wasn't... with him so I could get a piece of him Jenna. I was with him because I genuinely like him. And I thought he liked me." I say this so quietly I'm not sure she hears me.

She reaches over to pat the hand that's resting on the gearshift, and I know she understands.

***

The rest of the afternoon drags on. I'm sitting at the counter in the kitchen with my Algebra book out when my mom bustles in, a brown paper bag of groceries under each of her arms. She gives me a side glance, sets the bags down, and turns around with a "Hey."

"Hey back," I say with a forced smile. Mom looks at me for a minute, studying me closely as only a mom will do. I can tell she's trying to figure me out; Am I crabby? Am I sad? Am I just busy with homework?

"Hmm...." She mutters, slightly narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. I swear, if she were an animal, she'd be a predator the way she's eyeballing me. Finally, she slaps her hands on the counter in front of me. "Okay, what's wrong? Tell your mother. And don't bother saying nothing, because we both know it's a lie."

What is she, a mind reader? Sheesh.

I bit my lip and debate, avoiding eye contact.

"It's that McGrath boy isn't it?" my mom leans in close. "What did he do?"

My head snaps up. "Nothing!" I practically shout, a little too enthusiastically to be believable. Great. If there's one thing more irresistible to a parent, it's denial, so I dial it down a notch. "Technically he didn't do anything."

"So, it's more a case of what he didn't do?" Now she's leaning across the counter on her elbows, the groceries behind her already forgotten.

Gee, I hope nothing in those bags are frozen.

Again, I debate about how much to tell my mom, knowing that she's going to tell my dad, and then he'll probably say something to Matthew - because honestly, those two are the worst when it comes to gossip. And what girl needs her whole family knowing the details of her love life going up in flames? I hesitate. "Um..."