Evolve Series Box Set (53 page)

“Why do we hate her?” Whitley asks me almost inaudibly out of the side of her mouth.

“She was Laney’s best friend. She tricked her out of a scholarship at UGA; she wanted me,” I hurry through the CliffsNotes in her ear.

When Laney gets mad, it’s cute as hell, but you’re kind of expecting it, right? Well, when Thumbelina goes off, it’s a whole different kind of downright fantastic.

“Listen here you bushy-eyebrowed, needs-her-dead-ends-trimmed-severely hoochie.” Whitley cracks her knuckles, and hopefully only I catch her wince at it. “You’re obviously as deranged as your hairdresser if you thought for one minute Evan would respond to deceit. And now, you’re alone, and Dane and I are lucky enough to have them both in our lives. So once again, you really lose. Now, you’ve got five seconds to get the hell out of here or you’re gonna have bigger problems than your ass in that outfit.”

Dramatic pause for effect I guess?

“You want me to show you why they call me Slugger?” She wipes under her nose and growls. “And I don’t play softball…feel me?”

Holy hard-on. Sorry, Dale.

I do a quick survey and cannot decide whose face is funniest. Laney’s smirking, eating this up; if anything actually happens, there’s not a doubt in my mind she’ll jump in and put her money where Whitley’s mouth is. Dane’s jaw is unhinged and laying on the ground somewhere. And Kaitlyn is blood-red and fuming.

“Who the hell are you?” she snarls, hand on her hip, challenging Whitley.

“I’m lady enough not to show my ass at a funeral, but woman enough to kick yours if you don’t back off my friends. Evan?” she glances at me, keeping her stance to Kaitlyn, “do you have anything to talk to this, this person about?”

I shake my head, trying so very hard not to laugh.

“Laney, do you?” she asks next.

“Nothing.”

“And there you have it. You’re of no use here, now go find your rock and crawl back under it. We’re leaving,” Whitley proclaims proudly.

We all robotically fall in step and follow behind our fearless leader, Whitley, but not before Laney gives me a wide-eyed smirk, like “well, look at this chic.”

Oh, I am.

“Dale would have really liked you, Whitley,” I hear Laney tell her, snickering, “and he’d have loved that! Very cool of you.”

I just know Dale is looking down, laughing his ass off at the show we’re giving him. I’m walking with Laney, her new boyfriend and the prissy little thing I’m trying desperately not to fall for, having just watched her bare her teeth against a girl twice her size to defend a girl who was tackling her not so long ago.

Quite a show.

CHAPTER 18

Man Hands

***Evan***

“Hey, roomie, glad you’re back!”

“Hey, Zach, good to be back.” I look around my new room, which is small, clean and of normal smell—bonus. “Did you unpack all my stuff for me?”

“Yeah right,” he scoffs, “Avery did it for you. Don’t worry,” he waggles his eyebrows, “I thanked her already.”

I collapse onto my bed, worn thin from the last two weeks. Spring Break, Dale, Whitley, tons of driving… I need to re-center badly.

“So…” Zach hesitates, “I was real sorry to hear about your loss. Are you okay? Laney okay?”

“Getting there; a little better every day. I just hope my buddy Parker and his mom are all right. I think maybe I’ll go back and help them with their farm this summer.”

He nods and starts lacing up his shoes. “Me and Ave are gonna go grab some dinner. You wanna go?”

“Nah, thanks, though. I just wanna shower and go to bed.” I’m already half asleep just talking about it.

“All right,” he slaps my leg, “I’ll hang in her room ‘til curfew then, let you get some rest. We’ll have to work out a schedule one of these days, ya know. Socks on the door don’t work; jackasses think it’s funny to grab them off. My old roommate had the whitest ass you’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t have to worry about that with me,” I groan.

“Oh yeah?” His brows shoot up mockingly. “Your ass is tan, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant.” I laugh, more at my own sad state of affairs, of lack thereof, than the conversation. “Just let me know, though. I can make myself scarce.”

“Evan, man, you gotta get back out there. This is college. You’re young, wild, and free. You want me to hook you up?”

Going to regret this, no doubt.

Jumping in like a blind, lonely fool anyway.

“Actually,” I sit up and let him see I’m serious, “I do. I kinda already decided I was gonna start dating, so if you have somebody cool in mind, I’m down.”

“Atta boy,” he offers his knuckles for a bump, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yup,” I mutter, bumping him back weakly, “you do that.”

***

Date #1—Friday night

Conspirator: Zach

Girl: Tiffany-blonde, Junior, Phi something something, in Zach’s Anatomy class

Problem: Mannish

“Whitley?” I whisper, though I have no idea why. I’m pretty sure She-Man didn’t follow me into the men’s bathroom. Then again…

“Evan? Where are you? I can barely hear you,” she whispers back, not realizing she’s mimicking me.

“Listen, woman, I need your help.”

“I thought you were on a date?”

“That’s what I need your help with. What do you do when you’re on a date that you really want to get out of…like five minutes ago.”

“I have a friend call me and fake an emergency. But that’s a girl trick, so she’ll know what you’re doing.”

“All right, then what else ya got?”

“Hmmm,” she mulls it over, “what do I get out of it?”

“Extortion?” I choke out, shocked. “Whitley, I’m appalled.” I used appalled, a word pretty foreign to me, to cut at her root; she appreciates Whitley language.

She giggles in my ear, getting way too much enjoyment out of this. “You have to tell me everything. Deal?”

“Yes, woman! Now help me!”

“Where are you?”

“The Red Door.”

“Go back out there with her and act normal. God, you owe me.”

I walk nervously back to the table, apprehensive of exactly what I’ve just put into play. “Sorry about that, there was a line,” I mutter to my date.

There was a line? I suck at covert ops. If I manage to not blurt out a confession of “the plan” before Whitley gets here it’ll be a miracle.

Her big, freakishly large man hand keeps inching closer and closer to mine on the table, so I shove my hands in my lap. I don’t see an Adam’s apple, but I’m still looking—it’s gotta be there somewhere. Then, all at once, the heavens open and the angels scream.

“Evan Allen, how could you?”

Splash! Cold ice water to the face. What the hell?! I don’t know that props were completely necessary, but who am I to complain? I pick up my napkin and wipe my face, eyes clearing to see Whitley standing over our table, glaring.

“Who is she?” she points at my date.

“Um—”

“Don’t even try it!” she screeches. “You promised! No more cheating!”

Man, Bennett better look out, ‘cause Whitley could easily steal her spot in the drama club. Look at those big, fake crocodile tears. Note to self—Whitley can cue waterworks on a dime.

She pulls out a chair and throws herself down, slamming her hands on top of the table. “Why, honey? Why? We just made love before you left! Aren’t I enough?”

Everyone in this restaurant is staring at us now, and my date, well she’s…she’s leaving! But not before her water lands in my face. Small price to pay.

I finish wiping my face, again, and hesitantly peek over my napkin, scared this isn’t over yet.

“She’s gone,” Whitley says, voice back to normal, tears gone as quick as they’d appeared.

“Damn, Whit, that was something,” I say in shocked, but tickled, gratitude. “Thanks, though.”

“You’re welcome. Now what’d she order? I’m eating hers and you’re still paying.”

***

Date #2: the next Friday night

Conspirator: Avery

Girl: Rae

Stats: After my last date, Avery assures me the name “Rae” was not because she was in any way now, or previously, a dude, and is in fact a very nice girl from one of her study groups.

Problems: I almost don’t believe it myself.

Rae is pretty with a big smile and straight white teeth. Her hands are proportioned perfectly to her body and gender, which is also very attractive, more so than ever. We met up at the campus library, where she aides, and had a nice, easy conversation from there to my truck.

I’m actually having a pretty good time and even starting to relax while we wait for our food. Do I feel any five-alarm chemistry? No, but she’s pleasant, and maybe I could see her again.

When our food arrives, I ask her if she wants to try some of my lasagna, which she eagerly does, then offers me some of her Alfredo. We don’t feed each other or anything, just scoot our plates toward one another, but it’s still nice.

I still can’t believe I’m just starting to date. I’m almost twenty years old and never dated? Well, she lived three houses down…that’s exactly how that happened. She didn’t like to go to the theater, our town didn’t have a bowling alley and…no other girl within miles compared to her. This is crazy; I’m grown and need to snap the hell out of all these feely schmeely BS thoughts, so I scoot my chair a little closer to Rae’s, leaning in, smiling and laughing a bit more at things she says.

And then…she covers her mouth and tips her chair over in her jump and run to the bathroom, calling a barely audible “I’ll be right back!”

Shit. I hope the shrimp wasn’t bad. Do I go ahead and eat? Do I go check on her? I really have no idea what the right answer is, so I sit there until the waitress comes over to check on me. “My date’s not feeling well. Can you bring the check?” I ask her.

“Certainly. I hope she feels better.”

She’s laying the tray with the slip on the table when Rae comes back and sits down, her eyes watery and face chalky.

“Are you okay?” I know she’s not, I can smell the hint of vomit from here, but you’re supposed to ask, right?

“Oh, I’ll be fine now. Is that the check? We don’t have to leave. I won’t get sick again for a while.”

She knows when she’ll get sick? My money is on some weird make yourself throw up thing. Oh, and I also wish she’d quit talking, because her breath is not okay. There will be no goodnight kiss happening.

The waitress shoots me a questioning look and shuffles away as Rae merrily starts eating again.

“Do you think it was the food? Maybe you shouldn’t eat any more of it,” I suggest.

“The food’s fine,” she assures me, “finish yours. It’s just morning sickness, except mine comes at night. It’ll go away in a few more weeks.”

Come again?

Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me. This is the kind of shit that happens to Deuce Bigalow or victims on those punking shows, not real life schmucks like me. I’m tempted to look around for cameras.

“I’m sorry, what?” I choke out through a sweating throat.

“Don’t worry,” she grins and pats my hand, “me and the dad are broken up.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re so over.”

“You’re pregnant?” I’m not sure if I cough or laugh really.

“Yeah, Avery didn’t tell you?”

That’d be a big hell no.

“No, no she didn’t mention it.”

“Huh, well I am, but that’s not gonna stop me from finding Mr. Right.”

No, really, camera guys, go ahead and jump out. Right now. Please.

Date #3- Kiss my ass, not happening.

No way, no how. I could stand some real good company though.

Evan: Whatcha doing?

Whitley: Painting my toenails. You?

Evan: Nothing. Zach wants the room 2nite and I’m done dating. Wanna hang out?

Whitley: Wish I could but I’ve actually got plans later. Raincheck?

Evan: Sure, I’ll holler at you later. Have a fun night.

Whitley: U2, night.

Evan: night.

What’s she doing later? Does she have a date? Nope—this is none of my business. I’m the one who declared we wouldn’t go there. We’re just friends. I have her rescuing me from dates…time to sleep in the bed I made.

Or the bed my mom made. I’m packed and on the road in 15 minutes, headed home for the weekend.

***

“Shit, man, stop talking or I’m gonna piss myself.”

Parker’s just cracking up over my dating stories. Hayden’s snuggled up to his side, trying hard not to laugh with him and failing miserably.

“Who was the pretty blonde with you at the funeral? She looked nice, and not with child,” she says, somehow with a straight face.

The diamond on her finger twinkles as she rubs her hand on Parker’s thigh, always touching him in some way. He’d done it—he asked her to marry him, move home with him, and she said yes. She’ll be finishing school online, helping him run the farm, and taking his name soon. I’d love to tell them again to slow down, that they’re too young, but what the hell do I know? I think my glowing track record speaks for itself—I know jack shit.

“That was Whitley. She’s a good friend, a sweet girl.”

“Well, she’s very pretty, and it was nice of her to come and support you.” Hayden smiles, her eyes mischievous.

“Yeah, she’s beautiful, and awesome, and…” I shut my mouth before I say too much, grabbing the remote to concentrate on the TV.

“Not Laney?” Parker asks.

“That’s not even it. Laney’s happy, and some days I don’t even think about it. Can you believe that?” I ask him, my eyes big with my own shock. It’s true. I never thought I’d see the day, but some days I don’t think about Laney.

“Evan, you’re so handsome. Sorry, honey,” she kisses Parker’s cheek and gives him a sheepish smile, “but you are. And kind. I don’t understand the problem.”

“Evan’s a romantic,” Parker jokes, “always has been. No hit it and quit it for that one.” He tilts his bottle towards me. “He’s a big softie. He wants to hear music and see stars when she walks in a room. Don’t ya, Ev?”