Ian asked, spraying bits of food across the table.
“Ew.” I wiped a chunk of chewed up Crunchberry off my arm. Dad’s latest self-help book caught my eye on the edge of the counter. Finding Love When All You Feel is Lost .
“How serious do you think he is about her?”
Ian shrugged. “I’d say our dad jogging is pretty serious.”
I swirled my spoon around in my bowl, watching the last few pieces of cereal spin in circles on top of the milk.
“Do you think much about her?” I asked quietly.
The thing about Ian and me was that I didn’t have to tell him who I meant. He’d know. We had been through it all together: him crying while curled up in my lap, me rocking him back and forth and promising everything would be okay. And I had meant it. Everything would be okay. I would make sure of it.
“Not really,” he answered after a pause.
And the other thing about Ian and me: I always knew when he was lying. So I pretended not to notice when he pulled a few Hershey’s Kisses from the pocket of his pajamas and added them to his cereal.
After I ate the last of my breakfast, I washed my bowl and spoon and returned them to their rightful places before heading upstairs to shower and dress. I was meeting Zac that morning at his house to work on our project before I had to go to work.
On my way home the day before, I had stopped in at the drugstore to buy a few magazines. They had headlines across the cover such as “Win Him Over Now! 10 Surefire Tips to Get the Guy of Your Dreams” and “The Art of Kissing: How to Keep His Lips Sealed to Yours.” Any other time, I’d never be caught in public buying those things, but it was necessary research. I didn’t know the first thing about winning a guy over.
Taking advice from one of the dozens of articles I’d read, I slipped into my favorite sundress and then pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail. I dabbed a touch of shiny lip-gloss on my lips to make them eye-catching.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. It was strange how a few minor changes could make me feel like the real Avery was a little lost.
“Pheromones and paint to increase the visual appeal and encourage the release of endorphins,” I reminded myself. It was almost pathetic, the lengths girls would go to get a guy’s attention. Thank goodness this was only a business strategy and not that I was desperate enough to try any of these tricks.
But still, maybe I did look a little nice. Different, definitely. I never wore makeup and usually a cardigan would have been worn over my dress to cover up. I smiled at my reflection, noticing how my eyes sparkled as they caught the sunlight coming through the window.
A few minutes later, I pulled my car to a stop in front of the address Zac had given me, which belonged to a red brick ranch style house. It looked nice, well-maintained, and blended in easily with the other homes around it.
It didn’t look like Zac Greeley at all.
My finger pressed the doorbell, which I could faintly hear chime through the house. I readjusted my bag on my shoulder, then reached down to smooth out the front of my sundress. Why did my stomach suddenly feel like a nest of live squirrels had taken up residence inside it?
This is no big deal, I told myself. Think of it like a science experiment. I liked science experiments. Creating hypotheses and observing data to come to a conclusion based on facts made sense to me.
Hypothesis: An otherwise happily attached teenage boy could be convinced to dump his current girlfriend for another girl through the use of charm, wit, and a little bit of sex appeal.
The door opened and Zac grinned at me. His eyes widened slightly as his gaze traveled down to my shoulders and swept to my feet before snapping back up to meet my eyes.
Data: Zac was definitely checking me out.
“Hey. You look nice. Got a big date after we study?”
“No,” I said, laughing as I shrugged. “Just studying, then work.”
Zac stepped back to allow me to enter
“Ew.” I wiped a chunk of chewed up Crunchberry off my arm. Dad’s latest self-help book caught my eye on the edge of the counter. Finding Love When All You Feel is Lost .
“How serious do you think he is about her?”
Ian shrugged. “I’d say our dad jogging is pretty serious.”
I swirled my spoon around in my bowl, watching the last few pieces of cereal spin in circles on top of the milk.
“Do you think much about her?” I asked quietly.
The thing about Ian and me was that I didn’t have to tell him who I meant. He’d know. We had been through it all together: him crying while curled up in my lap, me rocking him back and forth and promising everything would be okay. And I had meant it. Everything would be okay. I would make sure of it.
“Not really,” he answered after a pause.
And the other thing about Ian and me: I always knew when he was lying. So I pretended not to notice when he pulled a few Hershey’s Kisses from the pocket of his pajamas and added them to his cereal.
After I ate the last of my breakfast, I washed my bowl and spoon and returned them to their rightful places before heading upstairs to shower and dress. I was meeting Zac that morning at his house to work on our project before I had to go to work.
On my way home the day before, I had stopped in at the drugstore to buy a few magazines. They had headlines across the cover such as “Win Him Over Now! 10 Surefire Tips to Get the Guy of Your Dreams” and “The Art of Kissing: How to Keep His Lips Sealed to Yours.” Any other time, I’d never be caught in public buying those things, but it was necessary research. I didn’t know the first thing about winning a guy over.
Taking advice from one of the dozens of articles I’d read, I slipped into my favorite sundress and then pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail. I dabbed a touch of shiny lip-gloss on my lips to make them eye-catching.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. It was strange how a few minor changes could make me feel like the real Avery was a little lost.
“Pheromones and paint to increase the visual appeal and encourage the release of endorphins,” I reminded myself. It was almost pathetic, the lengths girls would go to get a guy’s attention. Thank goodness this was only a business strategy and not that I was desperate enough to try any of these tricks.
But still, maybe I did look a little nice. Different, definitely. I never wore makeup and usually a cardigan would have been worn over my dress to cover up. I smiled at my reflection, noticing how my eyes sparkled as they caught the sunlight coming through the window.
A few minutes later, I pulled my car to a stop in front of the address Zac had given me, which belonged to a red brick ranch style house. It looked nice, well-maintained, and blended in easily with the other homes around it.
It didn’t look like Zac Greeley at all.
My finger pressed the doorbell, which I could faintly hear chime through the house. I readjusted my bag on my shoulder, then reached down to smooth out the front of my sundress. Why did my stomach suddenly feel like a nest of live squirrels had taken up residence inside it?
This is no big deal, I told myself. Think of it like a science experiment. I liked science experiments. Creating hypotheses and observing data to come to a conclusion based on facts made sense to me.
Hypothesis: An otherwise happily attached teenage boy could be convinced to dump his current girlfriend for another girl through the use of charm, wit, and a little bit of sex appeal.
The door opened and Zac grinned at me. His eyes widened slightly as his gaze traveled down to my shoulders and swept to my feet before snapping back up to meet my eyes.
Data: Zac was definitely checking me out.
“Hey. You look nice. Got a big date after we study?”
“No,” I said, laughing as I shrugged. “Just studying, then work.”
Zac stepped back to allow me to enter
Similar Books
