Page 32 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
It takes a few seconds for the bubbles to start jumping and a new message to come through.
Zachary: For questioning you dating my brother.
Ah, that. Yes, and thank you. Even though you’re right. I may never admit it, but you are. Who am I kidding? He’s going to findout one day.Oh no, he’s going to find out one day!What the hell am I doing? I grip my phone tighter. Maybe if I come clean right now, it’ll all just blow over. Maybe they’ll forgive it, and I’ll get to go back to crushing on Hayden. Like normal.
I start to type a confession but stop after the first letter, “I”. My chest tightens and my mind goes into rush hour. His family will hate me. They’ll think I’m a cheap liar. I’ll never get to talk to Hayden again, even if he does wake up. He’ll hate me for making them think he’s gay, or bi, or whatever, won’t he? But if I don’t come clean and he wakes up, I’m screwed too. I close my eyes and take in another deep breath.
Mackenzie: Apology excepted.
My eyelids drop and my head dips. I feel no better. My stomach is a mess, and I just dug my hole deeper. This isn’t sustainable. My phone buzzes again and I’m horrified to look at it.
Zachary: Excepted? Is that some new way to say no?
The bell rings and I jump. Calm down, Kenzie. Talk to Kaity about it. Maybe she can give you some plan to get out of all this before you end up in prison.I throw my bag over my shoulder and take off. I need you to have a plan, Kaity.
Between a huff and annoyed groan I type.
Mackenzie: ::facepalm emoji:: Accepted.* Sorry. Damn autocorrect.
I barely get past two classrooms before my phone vibrates again.
Zachary: ::laughing-crying emoji:: ::laughing-crying emoji:: I get that. So can I make it up to you?
Make it up to me? Does that entail never seeing each other again? That seems fair, except his entire family still thinks hisbrother is in love with me, so that’s a long shot. Whatever. A smile extends across my lips as a thought comes up. It’s absurd, but it’ll be funny to see what he says.
Mackenzie: You can come to my place and help me clean.
I hit send. I stop to see if he replies. If I were him, I’d either never text again or come up with some elaborate excuse. Which might be part of my problem, actually. I give it a few seconds, and there’s nothing. Nice. I think I lost him. Maybe he got the—
Bubbles start fading in and out again on my screen, then boom, his reply.
Zachary: When? What’s your address?
My eyes pop open. Uh… What?
“I…uh…” I look around the packed hall. I’m not dreaming, am I? Nightmare maybe? How am I supposed to follow that? I didn’t mean it! He was supposed to say no! I don’t need him coming to my house. Not after yesterday. Not ever! It’s one bad idea on top of another, and I don’t need any more bad ideas.
Hold up! This could be okay. I could make him do everything, make him work, and maybe he’d want to go home. The thought sits there for a moment, but then I feel bad for it. I can’t do that, but how do I take it back?
Simple, Kenzie! Just write back that you were joking and that everything is okay.
Mackenzie: After school? When are you out?
Yeah. I effed up.
Zachary: 2:45
Admit you don’t need him there. It’s not that hard, Kenzie!
Mackenzie: 3 here. But I work until 8.
What am I doing?
* * *
I’m home in record time after work and somehow he still beat me. My headlights catch an unfamiliar truck. I don’t know a lot about trucks, but I think it’s lifted, a Toyota, newer, and it’s flaming burnt orange. I stop behind it and a door swings open.
Zachary steps out. His hair isn’t gelled in place today. It’s tousled about his head and even over his forehead some. It’s…nice. Plumes of dust cloud around red, white, and black Nikes in the glow of my beams. He waves, all smiles.
