Page 33 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
I half grin and wave back before unlatching my belt and getting out with my hoodie squeezed around my waist. Why did I invite him here? He’s going to see that I’m poor.
“Hey.” I start toward him, but then divert through the yard so I don’t have to maneuver around him.
“Hey,” he calls back as I make for the house without him. In the corner of my vision I think he crinkles his brow before taking off after me.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I say. Maybe I should have saidI didn’t mean it, why are you here?But I had way too much time to cancel on him and I didn’t.
“It’s okay!” Zachary says. “I owe you.”
“Youdon’towe me,” I tell him. On the porch I stop and put up a hand to make sure Zachary understands.
“Just so you know. My mom is a little…down,” I say. I don’t want to say sick. That’s not really it. And depressed…well, that sounds too sad. “She’s okay, but like…”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He nods. I can see the understanding in both the kind curve of his cheeks and the way his eyes soften.
“Nah, just wanted you to know before you see her,” I explain.
He nods and I unlock the door and push inside with him on my heels.
I groan when I lay my eyes on the inside. The usual brightness of the foyer’s white walls and repeating flower pattern feels dingy and old. The kitchen seems out of date, aged. I notice all the little stains on the wallpaper. Even the cracked vase of flowers I put next to the door seems lackluster and screams that we’re not like them.
“It feels so good in here!” He exhales and sheds his leather jacket.
I’m not quite ready to lose mine. I need more time to retain the heat. “Yeah. Sorry it’s a mess.”
“A mess? It’s great. Where can I put my jacket?” Zachary asks.
Hmmm. We don’t get lots of guests, and I usually throw mine over one of the dining room chairs, if I take it off at all. That feels poor though. He’s probably expecting a coat rack or a whole-ass closet. My thoughts scramble for an answer, but I come up short.
“You can just throw it over one of these.” I point at the closest chair in the dining room.
He doesn’t question it. He simply steps over and deposits his jacket evenly over the first chair.
“So what are we cleaning?” he asks.
“Kitchen,” I say, spreading my arms and spinning. Why does it feel so small now?
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” he comments.
He’s not wrong. It’s not dirty. I don’t let my kitchen get dirty. Messy though, disorganized—that’s another issue. Plus the boxes on the table. Packages from everywhere. Mom’s comfort purchases. I don’t bother asking what they are anymore, and sometimes I wonder if she needed any of them. It’s not like wecan afford it, but I try not to say much because it just makes her sadder. If nothing else, it’s taught me to save.
“Hey, dear!” Mom appears around the corner like she knew I was thinking about her.
She’s dressed in one of her work pantsuits, minus the coat. The collar frills around her neck and she’s still got makeup on, which never happens. Any other day she’d have wiped it all away and switched into pj’s before I got home, but I told her Zachary was coming over. I also finally filled her in about my new relationship status, all of it, even though it was all a lie. It went over about as well as I’d expected, but I had to say something. She wasn’t happy. Disappointed sums it up best, and I think that’s what hurt the most. She might be smiling now, but that’s just a façade.
“Hey.” I smile back and give her a hug. It’s weird seeing her like this. All smiles. Cheerful. I like it, but I wish it was real. “This is Zachary. Zachary, my mom.”
“Zachary.” Mom smiles and reaches out to grapple him in a hug. Yeah, she’s a hugger. It doesn’t matter who you are. “Kenzie’s told me all about you.”
All about you? What the— What are you doing? I barely told you anything. Just that he’s Hayden’s brother, Hayden’s in a coma, I’mtalkingto Hayden, and they’re sort of wealthy. It seemed like all the important information at the time.
“Really?” Zachary’s eyes go big. It could be the hug he’s being smothered in or that she heardallabout him. “Good to meet you.”
“All right, we have to clean, so, uh…” I grin through tight locked lips at Mom.
“You two have fun. I’ll be in the living room,” Mom says, but before she leaves, she raises an eyebrow at me.
Stop it, Mom! Not now! Once she’s gone, I turn to Zachary and switch to planning me. “Okay, so let’s clear the counters and the table, and go from there. You get the counters and the dishes.”
