Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend - By Becca Ann Page 0,2
does she make me nervous? We used to hang out all the time before…well before Gabe banged another girl.
“Yeah.”
Instead of letting me stand, she perches her sexy form on the top of my desk, which leaves me eye level with her chest.
Oh dude.
She smells like spicy apple. I know exactly what lotion she wears, because I’m that pathetic. She watches everyone leave the room with a big smile on her face. Damn that smile. Her eyes flick to me and everythin’ shifts below the belt. Am I ogling? Or drooling?
I hear the door click, leavin’ us alone. Guess Ms. Stevens wants out of here. “Kay, so I’ve got a huge favor to ask you.”
Look up, look up. Her eyes are just a few more inches up.
“Okay.”
She reaches into her pocket. Her snug pocket. Look up.
“Could you give this back to Mom? I mean… your mom?”
It takes me a minute to process. And to look away from the sudden hurt in her face. Quynn was tighter with their boyfriend’s mom more than I’ve ever seen someone else be. When I finally get a grip, I notice the bracelet Mom gave her dangling between her fingers.
“Why?” I drag the word out and fold my arms.
“Don’t make me smack you, Bro. You know why.”
I hate that nickname because of the stupid double-meaning. Is she calling me Bro ‘cause she still thinks of me as her brother? Well, that’s not a far reach, since she just called my mother, Mom.
“She won’t take it back. And I’m not goin’ to let you give it back either.”
Her puff of breath nearly knocks me over with how good she smells. “Please, Bro. I know it was expensive, and I just don’t feel right about keeping it.”
I shake my head. She’s got to be kiddin’ me. I’m not going to get sucked into the drama more than I already have.
Another puff hits my face. “Fine.” She slides off my desk and drops the jewelry into her pocket. Without another word, she’s out the door.
Damn brother ruins everythin’.
Reason 2: You walk with a book on your head
“Hey hun,” Mom says as I walk through the door. “How was your day?”
Standard Mom question.
“Fine.”
Standard kid answer.
She waves me into the kitchen with a knife in her hand. Then she goes back to chopping tomatoes. I wrinkle my nose.
“You’re going to eat these and be happy about it,” she threatens as I sit on the bar stool across from her, letting my backpack drop to the floor by my feet.
“Yes, Mother.”
She makes a face. “I hate it when you say that.”
I laugh. “I know.”
She picks up a tomato slice and shoves it under my nose. “Now you have to eat it. That’s your punishment for being a smartass.”
“Uugh.” My gag reflex pumps in my throat as I push her hand back. “How about I just say I’m sorry?”
“And…?” She waves the slice in my face with a huge grin.
“I love you?”
“Say it like you mean it.”
Moms suck. “I love you, Mom. Now get that out of my face before I blow chunks.”
“Ew! Brody!” She laughs and sets the tomato back on the cutting board. “Don’t make me lose my appetite.”
“Okay. No more barf talk.” I smile. “As long as you don’t make me eat any of that.”
Picking up my bag, I sling it over my shoulder before I head to the fridge to grab something that doesn’t taste like a squishy foot.
“Oh, before I forget,” Mom says, reaching into her pocket. “You left your phone on the charger again this morning.” She slaps it into my open hand while I stuff my face with leftover cake.
“Sorry,” I say through the mouthful.
She ignores my lack of healthy taste in food. “I don’t know why you even have it if you never use it.”
She’s right. I use my phone maybe twice a day. Once to turn it to silent, and then again to turn the volume back on. Yeah, I’m that popular.
“Thanks.” Kicking the fridge door shut, I give her a fist-bump—‘cause Mom’s that cool—and slip downstairs to my room.
Oh dude, it stinks. I should’ve opened my window or something. It smells like morning. You know that smell… B.O., ass, and corn chips. Opening window now.
I plug in my iPod and strip. That ASL room really is too hot. Or maybe it’s just me sweating a rainstorm whenever I’m around Quynn. Stupid puberty and shit. Girls don’t sweat like this. And if they did, they sure know how to hide it.