Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
I go quiet myself and try not to make myself laugh either.
Abby’s dad is a very serious subject.
For me, it is anyhow.
I need to be on my guard any time she or anyone else even mentions her dad.
Why?
It’s a long story, but it was the one time Abby, and I ever had a fight.
It was the day she poked fun at me, teasing me about how she thought I had a crush on her dad.
I got so mad at Abby I ended up screaming at her until she got so upset she cried.
Only then did I realize that she really was only just kidding, like she does about a million other things.
And it was so obvious to Abby and me that I acted out only because I….
Well, we sometimes think about things we keep to ourselves for a reason.
Like me, any time I think about Abby’s dad.
I never admitted to having a crush on her dad, but the fact I didn’t deny it either, plus the way I acted out, said a lot more than words ever could.
So, since then, her dad’s been kind of a no-go zone as far as things we ever talk about.
And any time I’ve been over to her house, her dad’s always been away.
Working.
It took Abby a while to get over the way I snapped at her that day, but once she did, it was like the whole thing was forgotten about.
But for some reason, today of all days, as soon as Abby tells me her dad is going to be home for our girl’s weekend sleepover, it kind of rattles me.
Rattles me bad, but also in a good way.
That good way I’d never, ever tell another soul about.
Not even Abby. Especially Abby.
Plus, I mean…the idea of her dad and me? It’s so ridiculous it’s just unthinkable.
But the idea of a girl, any girl having a secret crush on the guy?
I’d challenge any girl who wasn’t related to the man not to at least have a fleeting thought about him in that way.
“Jen? Heeelllooo? Earth to Jen,” Abby chimes, snapping me back to reality.
There’s the sound of a horn blasting from her end of the line. But then, her shouting something at whoever honked at her forces me to ask the obvious.
“Uh…I’m here. Where are you?” I ask her, although I can hear she’s not in town.
“I’m in the city, just heading back to town…I had to go see my agent,” she sighs, sounding casual without being pretentious about it.
Her talent agent’s the one who’s opened a lot of doors for Abby so far, even during college. So it’s no biggie for me to hear her refer to her ‘agent,’ which is just a fancy word for twenty percent of any money she actually makes. Plus a monthly fee.
Something her dad pays for, too, like Abby going to college.
“I’m about two hours out with this traffic,” she continues. “Why don’t you just head over to mine? You know where the key is.”
“Sure!” I agree eagerly, careful not to even ask if her dad’s likely to be there just yet.
I’ve let myself into Abby’s place a ton of times, almost always because she’s running late or, like today, driving from the city back to town from one of her dance things.
“Cool,” Abby clips. “I got another call, so I’ll see ya in a bit, yeah? Oh! And make sure to bring your swimsuit. It’s gonna be a hot one!” she exclaims, signing off with her trademark giggle.
“See ya soon,” I reply, hanging up too, knowing better than to tie up her phone when she’s waiting to hear back on something so important.
New York, though? Wow, girl, you really are going places. Just don’t forget your friends when you hit the big time.
Puffing air out of my cheeks, I feel relieved that our weekend is still going ahead as planned, at least for now.
And I know if that call is from her New York job offer, then I guess I’ll just have to live without our weekend plans.
But something tells me everything’s going to be fine. We’ll have our weekend, and they’ll probably call her Monday to let her down easy.
Tell her someone who was closer or had more experience got the job. That’s what usually happens.
As hard as Abby works at what she’s so damned good at, there are a thousand other dancers with more experience and better connections.
I only wish the best for Abby, but if it could all just wait a couple of days? That would be awesome.
Snatching my keys and helmet from the coffee table, I grab the bag I’ve already packed. Ready to head over on my scooter.
Almost forgetting my swimsuit, but knowing better than to pretend I forgot it, I make an effort to find it and pack it in with my other things.