edges.
"Why are we using these?" I asked.
"We have guests. I just thought it would be nice."
"Mom, Chase isn't really a fine china kind of guy." In fact, I'd only ever seen him eat off our cafeteria trays and out of paper fast food wrappers.
Mom shot me a look. "Indulge me, okay? I don't get to entertain a lot."
"Seems like you're entertaining Raley all the time," I noted, setting the plates on the table.
"That's not entertaining. It's—" She paused, floundering for the right word.
"Ridiculously too often?" I supplied.
She shot me that look again. "Just set the table, Hart."
I waited until her back was turned to roll my eyes. Was I a good daughter or what?
Feeling the trepidation grow with each passing second, I set Mom's good "entertaining" china down on the table, feeling like I was about to be on some sort of horrible double date. Maybe it wasn't too late to break that arm after all.
As I set down the last plate, the doorbell rang.
I took a deep breath. I did a quick makeup check in the mirror above the dining room buffet. And I steeled myself for what I was sure would be the most awkward meal ever as I crossed to the front door and threw it open.
Standing on the porch was not only Chase but Raley as well.
Raley wore a pinched expression, as if he'd just eaten a pickle. He was dressed in his usual cheap blazer and polyester slacks ensemble, but they looked newer and not quite as tight as his normal fare. Maybe he'd gone shopping, although I found it hard to picture him browsing through clothing racks at the mall.
Chase, on the other hand, wore a smirk that told me maybe there had been some interaction between the two before they hit the porch. As I'd expected he was dressed all in black—his usual black jeans and black combat boots. But unexpectedly, he'd paired them with a black, button-down shirt and a black blazer that looked surprisingly adultish. And kinda nice. I swore I detected a hint of aftershave coming from him as the pair stepped inside the foyer.
"Hey," Chase said. "You look nice." He gave me an up and down that made my cheeks heat.
"Thanks. You too."
He shrugged. "I know how to clean up." He gave me a wink.
My cheeks went volcanic.
Raley cleared his throat, and I noticed he was holding a bottle of wine. He handed it to Mom as she came from the kitchen. "It's vegan," he said and kissed her cheek.
"There's non-vegan wine?" I asked. "What else goes in the bottle beside grapes?
"Chase, so nice to see you again," she said, pointedly ignoring me.
"Thanks for the invitation, Mrs. Featherstone." He gave her a wide grin. "I'm really looking forward to dinner."
Fool.
"Hartley is always raving about your cooking," he continued.
Now he was laying it on too thick. She'd never believe that.
"Really?" Mom raised her eyebrow my way as if she knew full well that was a lie. But she gave Chase a polite smile anyway. "Well, why don't you three have a seat in the living room while I finish up in the kitchen."
"You sure you don't need any help?" Raley asked, looking about as eager as I felt to hang out together while Mom cooked.
"No, I'm fine. Dinner will just be a minute." Mom took the wine bottle into the kitchen, and I heard her uncorking it as the three of us stood there in the living room awkwardly. Chase shoved his hands into his pockets. Raley shifted from foot to foot. I felt stiff and like I suddenly didn't know what to do with my hands.
"Uh, so, Chase," Raley said, "you work on the school paper with Hartley?"
"That's right, sir."
Sir? I shot him a look.
"That's nice." Raley nodded. Then he gestured to the living room for us to sit.
I did, perching on the corner of the sofa while Raley took the armchair directly across. Chase started to sit in the center of the sofa, only a few inches from me, but he caught Raley's eye and quickly moved a couple of feet to his right, taking the other far corner.
"So, where do you live, Chase?" Raley asked.
"Off Cherry Blossom."
"Uh-huh. How long have you lived there?"
"About five years. Moved here in middle school."
"And you're a junior too?"
I rolled my eyes. What was this, an interrogation?
"Actually, I'm a senior, sir," Chase answered.
"A senior." Raley turned his gaze my way, something unreadable in it. "So, you're older than Hartley."
"By, like, a year,"