Being around them makes me want to go get my tubes tied.”
“You’re being dramatic,” I say, reaching for my seat belt.
“But honest,” she says.
Arlo chuckles. “My brother and I were that bad—maybe worse. I think it’s that age. You’ve just got a ton of energy. My mom used to take us to the football field after school. She’d cut coupons, and plan dinners, and work at being supermom, while my brother and I would run around until we could hardly breathe. Then, she’d take us home, and by the time we got there, we were already bouncing off the walls again.”
“My older sister and I just liked to scream at each other,” Rose says.
“We settled our disagreements by beating the shit out of each other, too, and the occasional prank.” Arlo grins.
“How did we ever have crushes on boys at that age? Were we equally annoying or just blind to it because of hormones?” Rose asks.
“Pretty sure a little of both,” I say as I wave at Dad and Whitney’s next-door neighbor.
We spend the short drive back to our apartment with Rose stressing out about being late for the hookup she has planned for tonight. She bolts from the car the moment we pull into the parking lot to get ready.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell Arlo, instantly feeling awkward as the words settle because I hadn’t invited him on a date or with any pretenses. I extended it as an opportunity for him to spend time with me because I’m his good luck charm … or something. “I mean, sorry if my dad gave you the third degree or something. I don’t know why he can get so weird sometimes.”
Arlo grins, looking almost boyish as he laughs at my rambling. “It’s okay. It was nice. Sometimes being around other people’s families feels good, especially when I don’t get to see mine nearly as often as I’d like to.”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel that way about other people’s houses.”
“Their houses?”
I nod. “I don’t know why, but my dad’s nor the apartment has ever felt like home.”
“Do you think that’s because you’re always wanted to move back to Texas?”
“Maybe? I think it’s also a severe lack of clutter.”
His laughter fills the space, inviting and comforting. “What do you miss the most about Texas tonight?”
“Tonight?”
He nods.
“The stars,” I tell him. “It’s always cloudy in Seattle. I feel like I’ve lived here for four years, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never even seen Mt. Rainier. In Texas, the sky seems bigger—vaster. You can see stars for miles.”
“I was thinking that tomorrow we should—”
My phone rings, interrupting his words. I reach to cancel the call and then see that it’s Matt.
I glance up, seeing Arlo’s already read my screen. “You should get it,” he tells me.
I slide my thumb to accept the call. “Hey, Matt, now’s not a good—”
“Olivia Reid, I just passed by your old house,” he says, not letting me finish my sentence.
“Oh, um, that sounds cool,” I respond, trying not to be rude. This is the first time he’s called—or texted—me since posting that picture of him kissing some random girl, and he wants to talk about my old house?
“Just cool? I figured you’d have asked me if I waved as I drove by.”
“Must have slipped my mind.”
“That doesn’t sound like you. I hope you’re not forgettin’ about Texas already, Olivia Reid.”
“Of course not, I was just saying that I missed how you can see stars for miles there.”
“That you can. We should check them out when you’re here,” he says, his tone dripping with innuendo. “How many more days until your flight? Texas misses you and your smile.”
“Just about a week,” I respond, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
“I wish our spring breaks lined up,” he continues.
“Mmhmm,” is all I can manage, still too hurt that he kissed someone and is acting like nothing happened and too distracted from hoping that Arlo can’t hear Matt’s end of the conversation.
At that moment, Arlo raises his eyebrows, making me wish I’d gotten out of his rig. Then, he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through his text messages. I watch where his thumb scrolls, missing what Matt tells me.
I have to get off this phone call.
“Hey, Matt, I actually need to get going.”
“Sorry? What did you say?”
“I said, I’ve got to get going.”
He pauses for a moment, probably out of surprise, because I’m never the one to end our calls. “Well, I just wanted to hear your voice