Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,25

after the fact. Maybe surprise her and see if she noticed. She would have. I know that like I know Jerry will never get rid of his comb-over. Thank goodness I didn’t tell her. I didn’t lose anything except the notion that diets work.

Seize the cupcake . . . don’t settle for the kale. For a moment I picture bringing Henry to meet her, with that jawline of his and that heart-stopping dimple. I wonder if, when she saw that someone like him wanted to date someone like me, just the way I am, all extra twenty pounds of me, she’d see me differently.

“There you all are,” Tessa says as she walks into the garage. She lets a moth in with her, and I watch it as it flies directly to the overhead lamp above me, flittering around the light.

“Hey, Tess,” I say, going back to the door I’ve been working on.

“Finally fixing that thing?” Tessa asks, her tone indicating that she’s just making conversation. She’s never been interested in my furniture restoration. We have very different tastes. Tessa and I are different in many ways. She’s on the shorter, petite side; I’m on the larger Neanderthal side. We have similar faces, though. Most people can tell we’re sisters at first glance.

“Yep. Wanna help?”

“Can’t,” she says, looking at her nail beds. “I’ve got too much work to do.” She turns her attention to my mom. “Can you help me with the printer, Mom?”

“Sure, sweetie,” my mom says. She looks to me, and then her eyes drift over to the book. Obviously she wants to say more about it, to try to convince me to read it. I’ve never been more thankful for Tessa and our lack of a sisterly bond.

They leave, and my dad and I go back to working in companionable silence. A lot of words hang in the air. It almost feels like my dad will say something. But he doesn’t. And I’m grateful for it.

Chapter 7

I hate Thomas.

I called him on my way over to meet up with Henry, and when I told him that it was our third date, Thomas went on and on about how third dates are the make-or-break dates. The one where you talk about the big stuff. To see if you are really compatible. Like he was the world’s foremost expert on the subject. I don’t know the last time Thomas went on a date, much less a third one, so what does he know?

Except now, in a black faux leather booth, sitting across from Henry, in a modern-looking Japanese restaurant, a spread of different kinds of sushi between us, I feel ridiculously nervous. Not just because of Thomas, but because after talking to him, I realized that if this is a big date—the make-or-break kind—then I need to come clean about the work thing. I need to be honest with Henry. And I’m worried that after he finds this out, it will be over. Done. Kaput. I’ll never see that dimple again . . . or get to run my hand through that thick dark-brown hair of his. I was hoping to do just that tonight. And get more than just one chaste kiss in front of my apartment complex.

If only I could stop my pits from spontaneously sweating. I’ve got the cold sweats.

“You okay?” Henry asks. He’s holding his chopsticks, hovering over a spicy yellowtail roll, a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” I say and then swallow back a sick feeling crawling up my throat. “Great. Super.” Gah.

“Are you going to eat?”

“Totally,” I say, picking up my chopsticks. “I was just wondering which one to tuck in with.” I give him a half smile.

Henry chuckles, and I get the idea from the timbre of his voice and the “Aren’t you cute?” look on his face that I said that wrong.

He grabs a piece of the roll and eats it in one bite. I grab one and gingerly swirl it around in some soy sauce, my belly feeling too full of butterflies to really want to eat any of it.

Henry sets his chopsticks down next to his plate. He weaves his fingers, leaning them on the table in front of him. His look is serious, like he means business. My stomach flip-flops, my heart starts thumping in my chest. The piece of sushi forgotten.

“I got the job,” he says.

“You did?” I say, my heart now switching directions, moving away from cardiac arrest and more toward a joyful, happy feeling.

“I did. So