Read Online Love? Maybe. by Heather Hepler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Hepler
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bowl of dough into the fridge. “Besides, I’m not his type.”
“What is his type?” Jillian asks with considerable intensity.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I just know it’s not me. He’s seen me at my worst. Trust me.” Jillian’s still looking at me. “He’s seen me with poison ivy on my eyelids, blue hair, and dressed up as a pineapple.” I hold up my hand. “I can promise you Charlie Wishman has no romantic designs on me whatsoever.”
“Well, he is droolable,” Jillian says. “Seriously.”
I roll my eyes and look to Claire for backup. She is looking at Jillian too, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thingI am.
Mental.
We clean up the kitchen. By we, I mean me. Jillian watches, peppering me with questions about Charlie every seven seconds. Claire alternates between staring off into space and checking her phone. As I push the eggshells down the disposal, I consider chucking Claire’s phone in there as well. She has to stop.
When we head upstairs, I pause in front of my mother’s door. She’s quiet and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. We decide to postpone any more of Jillian’s list until the weekend. I am just about to fall asleep in the nest I constructed out of a couple of camp blankets and a pillow from Dom’s bed when Jillian leans over the side of the bed to look at me.
“I think we should try the potion,” she says.
“The love potion?” I ask. She nods.
Definitely mental.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“We should do this for Claire,” Jillian says. I look over at Claire, but she’s sound asleep. I think about the look on her face when she saw Stuart on the stairs and how she keeps checking and rechecking her phone.
“Okay,” I say. I sigh and close my eyes. “For Claire,”
“It says for best results, they have to ingest it.” I try to imagine handing Ben Donovan a vial of pink goo and asking him to drink it.
“Not going to happen,” I say.
“I have a plan.”
“Tell me,” I say, although I’m not one hundred percent sure I want to know.
“We need a kitchen and about twenty bucks.” I think about the kitchen at Jan’s.
“We?” I ask.
“Yes, we.”
I sigh and roll onto my side. I’m sure any other girl on the planet would be all over Jillian’s Love Makeover plan. But even if a tiny part of my heart bumps when I think of the way Ben Donovan keeps smiling at me whenever we pass in the hall, if it weren’t for Claire, I’d bail on the whole idea. Then I look over at her, still holding her phone set on vibrate, and I know I’m in this. At least as long as she is.
chapter seven
M ost Saturdays I help out in Jan’s. It’s easily my favorite place in all of Atlanta for many reasons. First, working at Jan’s gets me out of watching Dom and Lucy and helping Mom at the flower shop. Second, Jan finally talked me into making candy last year, and although I grumble about it, I secretly really love it. Third, what Claire and I told Jillian is true. Jan is sort of eccentric and a terrible businessman. He’s always giving out free stuff. If it weren’t for my help with the books, half of me wonders if he wouldn’t have already gone out of business. Helping Jan makes me feel like I’m actually making a difference, even if it’s a small one. And fourth, Jan is about the best listener I know. He doesn’t say that much, but when he does, he’s all deep and mystical.
Jan and I are restocking the Valentine’s Day corner. “I told Claire she just needs to forget Stuart.” I straighten thesign advertising my Consternation Hearts, which go on sale Monday. “But she can’t. It’s like her whole world ended.” I fill a glass vase with a dozen heart-shaped lollipops. “And Jillian,” I say, standing up to look at Jan, who is stacking box after box of gummy hearts, “she is driving me nuts with The Plan.” So far The Plan seems to consist of makeovers and a
“What is his type?” Jillian asks with considerable intensity.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I just know it’s not me. He’s seen me at my worst. Trust me.” Jillian’s still looking at me. “He’s seen me with poison ivy on my eyelids, blue hair, and dressed up as a pineapple.” I hold up my hand. “I can promise you Charlie Wishman has no romantic designs on me whatsoever.”
“Well, he is droolable,” Jillian says. “Seriously.”
I roll my eyes and look to Claire for backup. She is looking at Jillian too, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thingI am.
Mental.
We clean up the kitchen. By we, I mean me. Jillian watches, peppering me with questions about Charlie every seven seconds. Claire alternates between staring off into space and checking her phone. As I push the eggshells down the disposal, I consider chucking Claire’s phone in there as well. She has to stop.
When we head upstairs, I pause in front of my mother’s door. She’s quiet and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. We decide to postpone any more of Jillian’s list until the weekend. I am just about to fall asleep in the nest I constructed out of a couple of camp blankets and a pillow from Dom’s bed when Jillian leans over the side of the bed to look at me.
“I think we should try the potion,” she says.
“The love potion?” I ask. She nods.
Definitely mental.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“We should do this for Claire,” Jillian says. I look over at Claire, but she’s sound asleep. I think about the look on her face when she saw Stuart on the stairs and how she keeps checking and rechecking her phone.
“Okay,” I say. I sigh and close my eyes. “For Claire,”
“It says for best results, they have to ingest it.” I try to imagine handing Ben Donovan a vial of pink goo and asking him to drink it.
“Not going to happen,” I say.
“I have a plan.”
“Tell me,” I say, although I’m not one hundred percent sure I want to know.
“We need a kitchen and about twenty bucks.” I think about the kitchen at Jan’s.
“We?” I ask.
“Yes, we.”
I sigh and roll onto my side. I’m sure any other girl on the planet would be all over Jillian’s Love Makeover plan. But even if a tiny part of my heart bumps when I think of the way Ben Donovan keeps smiling at me whenever we pass in the hall, if it weren’t for Claire, I’d bail on the whole idea. Then I look over at her, still holding her phone set on vibrate, and I know I’m in this. At least as long as she is.
chapter seven
M ost Saturdays I help out in Jan’s. It’s easily my favorite place in all of Atlanta for many reasons. First, working at Jan’s gets me out of watching Dom and Lucy and helping Mom at the flower shop. Second, Jan finally talked me into making candy last year, and although I grumble about it, I secretly really love it. Third, what Claire and I told Jillian is true. Jan is sort of eccentric and a terrible businessman. He’s always giving out free stuff. If it weren’t for my help with the books, half of me wonders if he wouldn’t have already gone out of business. Helping Jan makes me feel like I’m actually making a difference, even if it’s a small one. And fourth, Jan is about the best listener I know. He doesn’t say that much, but when he does, he’s all deep and mystical.
Jan and I are restocking the Valentine’s Day corner. “I told Claire she just needs to forget Stuart.” I straighten thesign advertising my Consternation Hearts, which go on sale Monday. “But she can’t. It’s like her whole world ended.” I fill a glass vase with a dozen heart-shaped lollipops. “And Jillian,” I say, standing up to look at Jan, who is stacking box after box of gummy hearts, “she is driving me nuts with The Plan.” So far The Plan seems to consist of makeovers and a
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