Summer Girl - A.S. Green Page 0,6

I will never lose myself like that. Not ever.

Besides, my twenty-first birthday is still three months away, and following the law is another way I maintain order in my life. I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket because I set my cruise control at fifty-five. Basically I’m the life of the party. So sue me.

“I asked you a question,” he says, grinning at me.

A question? Please don’t tell me I spaced out while he was asking something important. Like maybe whether we’ve taken this friend thing as far as we can take it, and would I like to get under the table and engage in some wild monkey sex? Yes, please.

I swallow hard. “What was the question?”

“I swear, Katherine, sometimes your mind drifts more than anybody I’ve ever known. I asked you what you thought about that.” He looks really happy. I wonder if whatever he asked me was supposed to make me happy, too.

“Thought about what?” I ask, apologetically.

He puts down his fork. “That thing I spent the last ten minutes telling you about. How the brothers voted me in as president of Theta Delta Chi? How we’re having a party at the house on Saturday to pass the baton? How I want you to help us plan it? Did you hear any of that?”

“Wow! Congratulations!”

He shakes his head and laughs softly. “So? Are you free?” For a second I think he’s suggesting that I should be his date, but then he adds, “You’ll help us plan the party, right? You have a way with stuff like that.”

“Love to. Of course I can.” Honestly, I’m happy for him, but this news isn’t nearly as exciting as the place my imagination had been trotting off to.

He reaches across the table and lays his hand on top of mine. A lump forms in my throat. I both love it and hate it when he does this. No wonder people think I’m his girlfriend. No wonder Mom’s practically picking out my china pattern and Macie’s constantly rolling her eyes. Could this be the night things finally change for us? If so, it would turn a completely shitty evening into rainbows and unicorns. I might even forgive Mom.

“Because we need your organizational skills,” he says. “I’m no good at matching napkins and streamers.”

“Sure.” I pull my hand back and turn toward the window. A car is passing by, and I watch its red taillights flare then bend around the corner. When I look back at Andrew, his head is tipped to the side, and he’s studying me.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” I say. Then, noticing that my belt is twisted, I re-center the buckle. My mind settles. “I guess I’m still obsessing about the Econ final.” And about how my mother soaked all my hard-earned plans in gasoline, then lit a match.

“I’m sure you did fine. I thought it was all pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, well, everything comes easily for you.”

He can’t deny it, so he smiles. Then he slides a small velvet box across the table at me. “Maybe this will cheer you up.”

Holy shit. The temperature in the restaurant spikes, and my heart stutters in my chest. I am absolutely rigid in my seat. “Andrew?”

He looks down at the box then up at my bewildered expression. Another long second passes between us before he throws his head back and laughs, then glances nervously around the restaurant. “It’s an early birthday present.”

I open the box, revealing a sky blue sapphire surrounded by tiny diamond chips. “Holy crap.” Andrew just gave me a ring. A ring. A freaking ring!

“My mom got it for her twenty-first birthday. It doesn’t fit her anymore, and she thought you might like it. She thought it would match your eyes.”

It takes me a while to process what he’s saying. “So…it’s a present from…your mom?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

The small balloon of happiness that had been expanding inside my chest deflates abruptly. Although, it is pretty much a family heirloom. I mean, that has to count for something, right?

My cheeks flush with heat. “I don’t even know where I’d wear something like this. It’s too nice.”

Andrew swipes his finger over the ring, which is already on the third finger of my right hand, and smiles until a single dimple dips into his left cheek. “It is nice,” he murmurs. “Almost as nice as you.”

Nice, I think. Well, isn’t that nice.

Chapter Three

Katherine

Fifteen minutes after we leave the restaurant, Andrew pulls his BMW into the circular driveway in front of his fraternity house. Theta Delta

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