Page 16 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, voice low. “You don’t seem to want me to notice that you’re noticing me.”
My eyes widen, and I’m sure I’m as red as a tomato. “I was notnoticingyou.”
He chuckles, nodding. “I’m enjoying watching you, too. Who knew pruning trees could be so…seductive?”
I’m blushing even more at the word, but I can’t help letting out a short snort of a laugh, which just makes Noah smile brighter.
“I should write a song about it. I’ll call it ‘No Twigs Attached.’?” He nods like he’s seriously considering it.
I freeze. Did this bad boy just make apun? I smile back at him. I love puns. “Or ‘IPine FirYou’?”
He looks at me for several seconds before laughing. And it’s not a flirty laugh; it’s a laugh of admiration. “That was sosappy!”
“I can’t believe you think my jokes are acorny!” I say, cutting another branch. “I’m trying to branch out, get to the root of the problem. I’m not as poplar as you are.”
He snorts. “I’m telling Ash what a beech you’re being!”
I turn to him, frowning. “Who’s Ash?”
He pauses in his laughter and raises his brow again. “Um, the blond guy sitting with us at the picnic table? You know, realpinein the neck?”
I nearly fall down laughing. “I thought that guy’s name was ‘Hash’! I wondered why he was named after a corned-beef dish!”
Noah chuckles. “You realize I’m going to have to call him ‘Hash Brown’ now, don’t you?”
“I’d be-leaf it.”
He shakes his head at me. “You’re tree-mendously acorny. You know that, Noorani?” His smile is so big, and real.
We keep making terrible jokes while we finish pruning, and the time flies. By the time we’re done, I’m feeling light and happy for the first time since I got to this town. Who would have thought I would actuallyenjoypruning spruce trees while making terrible tree puns? Maybe I won’t hate every moment of my time in this park.
CHAPTER SEVENBrewing a Plan
Mom picks me up from CROP but doesn’t say anything on the way home. Which is fine with me, because I wasn’t going to talk to her anyway. I spend the afternoon in my room, editing the pictures I took on my last few days in Toronto and uploading them to my photography blog. I only have about a hundred followers—mostly other architecture or photography nerds in the city. I’ve had some of my pictures licensed for media, and it’s supercool to open a bigger Toronto website and see a photograph I took.
But these new pictures feel kind of sad now. There are my normal shots of buildings and the skyline that my blog is known for, but also a picture of the streetcar outside my favorite banh mi shop, a busker at a subway station, and the long winding line outside my favorite homemade ice cream place. Summer is my favorite season in Toronto, and I hate that I’m missing it.
Mom cooks dinner again, this time chicken-and-pesto pasta with a salad. Is she going to cook a fresh dinner every night? That really wasn’t her style when I was growing up. But I guess everything is new after this marriage.
“So, what were you ladies up to this afternoon?” Jasonasks while I’m helping myself to salad. It’s Mom’s cranberry, kale, and apple. Another favorite of mine.
“I was working on my photography blog,” I say.
“Oh, that’s great!” he says. “I love your blog. Your mother showed it to me.”
I shrug.
“Are you going to add some pictures of Cherrybridge, now that you’re here?”
I shake my head slowly. “Um, no… It’s a blog about Toronto?”
I half expect Mom to pipe in saying that since I’m here, I should change the blog focus, but she’s still quietly eating.
“Well, I think Cherrybridge is quite photogenic,” Jason says, plowing ahead. “The downtown was recently revitalized. All those hanging baskets and planters on the boulevards were put in this spring. And there are some great restaurants and boutiques downtown too.”
I think of Noah’s comment that Cherrybridge hides the real in favor of the fake. “Are there any thrift stores or vintage stores here?” I ask. “I could use some shorts to wear to the park. It’s a lot of manual labor.”
Mom finally speaks. “If you need clothes, we can go to the mall. You don’t need to use your own money for clothes anymore.”
