She sidled past him and walked closer to . "Flash, love, talk to Mummy."
I smiled. I loved my mom, but she was currently a walking virus and I wanted none of it. "Mom, you’re sick. You really should go to bed."
"I’m keeping my distance." She crossed her arms and leaned against my dad who was now at her back. "Tell about Tate. What happened?"
Knowing she wouldn’t leave until I filled her in, I spilled the beans. Well, most of them. I filtered quite a bit in my retelling.
"Okay, this ’thing’ Tate saw and misunderstood, did it have sothing to do with Madison?"
"Unfortunately, yes. She thinks I slept with her." I chose to leave out the ramming from behind detail. "But even if I did, I don’t get why she’d care."
"Honey, she was in love with you."
I dragged my hands down my face. "Why didn’t she tell ?"
Mom smiled gently, almost like she was staring at a child. "She tried, love."
I fisted my hands at my side. "Jesus, what the fuck did I miss?"
"Prom," Dad said.
"What?"
"She wanted you to take her to prom, love," Mom said.
"She never told that," I argued.
"I’m pretty sure she tried, Parker," Mom countered.
"I’m pretty sure she didn’t."
"What exactly did she say, Flash?" Dad asked, pointedly.
I closed my eyes and tried not to hit sothing, rembering my conversation with Tate back in high school and suddenly seeing it through a completely different lens.
"Prom’s coming up," Tate said as we sat at McDonald’s during lunch.
Because we were seniors, we had off-campus privileges and just happened to have the sa lunch period so spent pretty much every day eating together either at school or soplace close by.
"So?"
"You don’t want to go?" she asked.
"I honestly haven’t thought about it."
"What if you found out soone really wanted you to ask them?"
I t her eyes and asked, "What do you an?"
"What if you found out soone you know, really well, likes you more than a friend and really wants you to ask them to prom?" she pressed. "Like as a proper date."
I let out a scoff. "Tater, are you serious?"
"Yeah, why?"
I sighed. "Okay, look. I think Nora’s super cool. But I don’t like her like that. Does she think I might ask her to prom?"
Nora had transferred to our high school sophomore year and every ti she saw , it was like cartoon hearts appeared above her head. I an, I wasn’t blind to girls when they were attracted to , but even if I was, Nora wasn’t secretive about being thirsty and that kept at arms’ length. But if Tate saw sothing in her, maybe I was being too harsh and should give Nora a chance.
"No, Flash," she’d practically growled. "I’m sure she doesn’t think you’re going to ask her."
"But..." I waved a finger as I considered her suggestion. "Maybe I should ask her. I an, she’s super sweet, and she’s liked for, like, forever. It would probably be fun."
Tate gasped. "Really?"
"Yeah. We could double. Did anyone ask you yet?"
She frowned. "No, Parker, no one has asked yet."
"I’m sure soone will." I shrugged. "I’ll ask her tomorrow. Thanks for the suggestion, Tater. You’re so good at this guy-girl stuff."
"Yeah, I’m really good at that. A regular expert," she’d bit out. "I should get back."
I cocked my head. "We’ve got twenty minutes."
"I need to study." Tate stood and cleared away her half-eaten food.
Even though Tate had decided to go with friends, rather than a date, she’d fallen "suddenly" ill the night of prom and stayed ho. I’d taken Nora and we’d ended up back at her place because her mom was working late. She’d wanted to take things all the way, but I’d been worried about Tate, so instead of taking advantage of Nora and her willing body, I’d driven ho and texted Tate to see if I could swing by. She’d said she was contagious, and she’d see back at school on Monday.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I hissed. Tate hadn’t been trying to set up with starry-eyed Nora, she’d been trying to subtly get to ask her. "Jesus, I’m an idiot."
"Right, so as I see it, you need to decide how you feel about Tate," Mom said. "I think it would be a good idea to make sure she knows you never slept with Madison, because she’s obviously been affected by incorrect information, but you need to deliver that news delicately. If you feel the sa way about her, then you fight like hell to fix what you broke, even if it was based on a miscommunication and not your fault. If you don’t feel the sa way, you need to go gentle... then you need to let her go."
"Couldn’t have said it better myself," Dad said, squeezing my mom’s arms gently. "Now, you’re going back to bed."
"The tea."
"I’ll make you tea."
"And I’d like a few bikkies as well," Mom said.
"I’ll find that nasty shortbread shit you love and put your tea in a proper cup," Dad promised.
"Excuse , sir, my mother made those biscuits. They are not nasty."
I wrinkled my nose. They were nasty, and they’d been mailed from England, so they were also suspect in their freshness.
"I apologize, your majesty. You can punish later. Now off to bed with you," Dad imitated my mother’s very proper British accent as he turned her and walked her back into the house, effectively leaving to my thoughts.
I decided I needed a beer and so space, so I hauled my ass to the club. Pulling my bike around the back, I entered the code on the door and walked through the great room, stalling when I saw my sister on the sofa with my nephew, Niall, their heads buried in a book.
She glanced up and grinned. "Hey, little brother, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask the sa of you."
"Uncle Flash!" Niall said, dropping the book and making a run for . We did our super-secret handshake, then he hugged and went back to his book.
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