Best Friends Don't Kiss(5)
I open my mouth to ask her more about them, but she quickly changes the subject by standing up and holding out her hand toward me. “I’m Ava Lucie, by the way.”
“Luke London.” With her hand in mine, I don’t miss how soft her skin feels as we punctuate our introduction with a gentle shake.
“Are you a freshman too, Luke?”
“Yep.” I nod.
“Cool. What’s your major? Something more attuned to someone with a fight instinct?”
I smirk.
“Engineering.”
“Dayum, no wonder you use your brain in an emergent situation. It probably takes up your whole dang skull if you got into Columbia’s engineering program.”
“I do okay,” I respond, actually blushing at the compliment. I slide both of my hands into the pockets of my jeans and try to return the sentiment. “And you must be really talented to get into Columbia’s art program.”
She ignores my comment completely. “What type of engineering are you planning on doing?”
“Aeronautical. But…well, actually…engineering isn’t my end goal.”
She tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“First, engineering,” I explain. “Then, flight school. Then, NASA.”
“NASA? As in strap me to a rocket and shoot me to the moon?”
I nod with a laugh. “That’s the one.”
“Wait…so, it’s possible that the next Neil Armstrong just put out a fire in my dorm room?”
A laugh bursts from my lungs. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here. I have a long, long way to go before I get even close to that.”
“I don’t know,” she counters. “One small dorm fire for man, one giant blaze for mankind.”
I can actually feel my smile in my cheeks. “Now, you just need to get rid of the evidence before our RA sees it.”
Her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Oh God. How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“How about this?” I offer. “Since there’s no way you’re going to be able to eat that soup, and I was already on my way out to get some food, you come with me to grab a slice of pizza at Antonio’s, and we’ll make a pit stop on the way to buy some shit to clean all this up.”
“Okay, yeah,” she says with a soft, adorable smile. But just as she grabs her purse off her bed, her cell phone starts to ring. With a small frown, she flashes an apology toward me with her eyes. “Do you mind if I take this real quick?”
“Of course not.” I shake my head and wait patiently by the door as she puts her phone to her ear.
“Hi, Mom,” she says quietly. “Yep. Everything is good. I’m officially all moved in… Uh-huh… Do you mind if I call you a little later? I’m going to go grab a slice of pizza with a new friend…”
New friend. That’s me, I guess.
I don’t know why it irks me a little that I’m already friend-zoned by this gorgeous, blue-eyed firebug, but it does.
Considering I have a girlfriend by the name of Sarah at Stanford, it shouldn’t bother me at all.
October 31st
Ava
The moment any woman in the Lucie family reaches the age of thirty and is still single, seriously annoying complications set in.
How do I know this? Because as a thirty-three-year-old woman in the family, I took a one-way trip to hell three years ago, and my mom and great-aunts made a deal with the devil to make sure finding a husband is the only way I’m allowed to book a flight back.
A text pings in the ongoing group chat with the three clucking hens, and I sigh as I scroll to read it.
Mom: Ava, there is a cute lawyer at the dog park today!
Right below her message sits a candid photo of a guy sitting on a park bench. He’s aesthetically handsome, looks to be early thirties like me, and is smiling down at something on his phone. He has no idea the photo is being taken of him, and he’s a complete stranger.
Me: Have you lost your mind??? What if he sees you taking pictures of him and gets mad?
Aunt Poppy: Get real, Ava. We’re smarter than that.
Aunt Lil: It was a top-secret mission. ;)
Looks like the whole gang is out and about today…and they’re all clinically insane.
Mom: VERY top secret. He had no idea.
Me: Is this the only reason you guys go to the dog park? To stalk men?
Mom: Don’t be ridiculous. We come to walk Bruce too. Should we give him your number?
Bruce is my mom’s ten-year-old English bulldog. He’s lazy as hell and enjoys walks as much as I enjoy finding out my mom and great-aunts are sneaking pictures of random dudes in the name of finding me a man—aka: not at all.
Lucky for him, though, the dog park is only a short walk from my parents’ house. And most likely, he just lies around in the grass while my mom and great-aunts stalk men on my unwarranted behalf.
Me: Please, I beg of you. Leave that man alone and find something else to do with your time. Pottery. Fly-fishing. I don’t care, just something.
A minute passes peacefully, and na?vely, I actually think the moment has passed. I go back to lining my eyes with a bold, dark line, but I haven’t even finished one of them when my phone chimes again.