My Sweetest Escape (My Favorite Mistake #2)(40)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“Can you zip me up?” I unlocked the door before she busted it down. I turned my back and she finished zipping me before she wrenched me back around. I didn’t think she knew the meaning of the word gentle.

“It makes your boobs look great.” Of course, this was an important consideration. “Gorgeous. If I had a dick, I’d totally do you.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I said, touching her shoulder.

“Okay, so now we both have dresses, can we get out of here?”

“Sure, just let me get changed.”

Hannah couldn’t get out of that store fast enough. I reminded her that we needed accessories for our dresses, so she dragged me into Claire’s for earrings and such, and then we went and got shoes. By the time we had everything for our outfits, we were both starving, so we decided to be done for the day. I invited Hannah to dinner and she accepted.

“By the way, what were you and my sister talking about for so long last night?” I said as we shoved our purchases into the backseat of my car.

“I was just apologizing profusely for my lack of tact. It took a while. I also had to go into the whole story about the guys and outline my reasons for wanting to go. After I told you, it seemed stupid that I was trying to keep it a secret in the first place.”

“That was it?”

“Yeah, why?” I looked at her, but her eyes were wide and innocent. I’d underestimated her lying skills, apparently, based on past experience.

“No reason. Just curious.” I dropped it. My next stop was Dusty to see what his version of the story was.

* * *

I didn’t have long to wait to interrogate Dusty because he was at the house when we got back, sitting on the couch with his headphones on as if he was the king of the castle. He pulled them off his ears and left them around his neck when he saw me and Hannah.

“Should we add your name to the list?” I said, pointing to the chart with everyone’s name on it. “Or maybe you should just move in. You could sleep on the recliner.” It happened to be the ugliest chair in the history of chairs, but Taylor refused to get rid of it, and would never say why. Some sort of weird sentimental value. I honestly didn’t want to know.

“Pass. I’m just here because Hunter is helping me study for the Praxis. Or actually, he’s showing me how not to study for the Praxis.”

“Did you get your scores yet?” I asked Hunter.

“Not yet. But they should be in by tomorrow. If not, I’m going to let Taylor call and rip them a new one. She’s much better at yelling and getting her way than I am.” This was true. I’d seen it in action.

“I’m sure you did fine,” I said, going to take my bags down to my room, Hannah following. Hunter was really smart—in fact, the entire house was freaking smart, just in different ways. It was more intimidating than when I’d been competing with my classmates in high school and last year for the highest GPA.

I tossed my bags on the floor and went to check my email, my heart pounding a little bit. Yup, there it was. An email with the subject line: Writing for The Maine Campus, from someone named Brett Evans. I clicked it open and scanned it. He’d read my blog and loved it and was wondering if I’d like to have my own column in the Entertainment section where I’d review bands, CDs and so forth. He did mention that he’d gotten my name from Hannah, so it didn’t seem like he was contacting me out of the blue. He also mentioned that the paper paid per article, but if I liked it enough, he was looking for an assistant editor for his section, and he would love to talk to me, and it didn’t matter if I wasn’t a journalism major.

“Let me guess. Brett emailed you.” Hannah had been silent the entire time I’d been reading the email. Probably because she knew that’s what I was doing.

“Yeah. He wants to give me a column, and he said he needed an assistant editor.”

“Holy crap, that’s awesome! Good job, girl.”

I felt less-than-enthusiastic. “But, Hannah, I’ve read the paper, like, once, and I’m not a journalism major. I’m not even a writing major.”

She scoffed.

“Doesn’t matter. Brett’s a new-media major. There are lots of people who work there that aren’t in journalism. Besides, it’s not like it’s the New York Times. It’s just a school paper. Not a big deal.” Why did it feel like such a big deal? “So you’re going to do it, right?”

It was money, which I didn’t have, and it was something I loved to do.

Live the day, Jossy.

“Yeah, I’m going to do it.” The second the words were out of my mouth, Hannah tackle-hugged me and we both fell back on the bed. “I swear, I think you’re more excited about it than I am.”

“Awesome. Fuck, I’m starving,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach and sitting up. She held out her hand and pulled me to my feet.

“How do you know this guy, anyway?” Hannah never really talked about other friends.

She sighed and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “It’s kind of a long story. We were sort of friends in high school, and I was madly in love with him. I never told him and eventually I got over it, but we’re still sort of friends. It’s one of those weird relationships where you never really know where you stand, you know? But he’s a good guy, I swear.”

Okay, the story wasn’t that long. My next question was automatic.

“Is he cute?”

She smiled a little. “Not in the conventional way. He’s sort of band-geek chic. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him.”

* * *

Hannah kept my new job quiet at dinner, like I asked her to, and ended up staying with us for homework time.

“You know, I said we needed to build a library instead of a stupid man cave and look at us now,” Taylor said as every available surface, including the floor, was taken up with books and people and computers. “I told you I wanted one of those bookcases with the ladder that rolls across it.”

“Well, maybe some people were waiting for some other people’s birthday to do that,” Hunter said, not looking up from his book. He and Dusty had their heads together over the same book.

“Whatever,” she said, going grumpily back to her book. “I have a point and you know it.”

“Yes, baby. Whatever you say, baby.” Taylor balled up a piece of paper and chucked it at him.