Never Been Nerdy(17)

I’m not going to take the bait. I’m so not. I’m going to turn my metaphorical head and look the other freaking way! Averting eye contact and all those passive aggressive tactics that I know how to use so very well when it comes to family.

“Is there something you wanted?” I ask, blowing hair out of my face. Turning, I look back at Sera and Dean talking with one another, Matty bouncing in the seat, legs swinging. Even though he’s not allowed to have sugar, the kid’s running on some other kind of high.

Shit, I was right before, Sera and Dean do look like they know each other, like they’ve been the best of pals longer than she and I have.

Dean’s watching Sera with an intensity I’ve only ever seen in the way that MacLaine looks at her. No man’s ever looked at me like that, like they almost can’t wait to see what comes out of my mouth next, how my face is going to change with whatever emotion I’m feeling. Dean likes Sera, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

And that fucking pisses me off. More than I thought it would.

Then again, she could be telling something utterly and completely crude.

Yeah, right. This is Sera we’re talking about.

Some prey you lose in the pursuit of conquest. Bad luck happens to be one of the reasons, which is my middle name. The wind changes, the guy doesn’t take a liking to you right away, and timing is everything. But I’ve never been told no before, never been not even the entertaining of an idea; I’ve never not been a prospect.

I’m not sure I like being second best.

“I want you to come to the rehearsal dinner on Friday. Malcolm’s kids will be there, too, and I would love for you to be there as well.”

Where’s the fucking fallout, ‘cause I’m sure sure my Mom just bombed me right from the fucking sky. For some reason, I feel the throbbing in my half-twisted ankle, worsened by the unnatural angle it’s at due to my fabulous shoes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, although I’m not too sure how I did it. Maybe I got something funky in my DNA that lets me deal with shit when I don’t want to? Maybe. Maybe I’m just stronger than relegating all my good attributes on fictional reasons and own them instead.

“It’s actually a really bad idea. We both know I’m not going to keep my mouth shut, and good ol’ Mal is going to take offense and lock himself in a room to sulk and cry fake-ass manly tears. Besides, weren’t you two just going down to the city hall-court-whatever and sign a paper? Why is there a rehearsal dinner all of a sudden?” I’m breathing quicker now, like you do after a heavy make-out session.

Mom sighs heavy and long, letting me know how very much of a disappointment I am. Well, fuck that. I didn’t ask to be part of that fucked up trio. I won’t play third wheel to my mom’s new husband, especially when I can’t stand the fucker.

“Why can’t you do this for me? I’m not asking you to cut off your leg and bake it, Katarina! I want you to come and meet Malcolm, formally, and the rest of his family! How is that so bad? Why is that so bad?”

I blow more hair away from my face, and start twirling it around my finger. Shit, I’m going to tangle the hell out of it.

“Mom, I don’t want to do this now. I’m out with friends and I don’t want you to ruin my Saturday. I’ll call you later,” I say, having zero intention of doing so. Not dealing with this shit today. Big nope.

“You’re always out with friends, always working! When is it time for me, Katarina? When do you get to spend time with your mother?” Her voice cracks a little, just a tiny tremor that means Armageddon is about to happen.

I’ve never seen my mom cry, a proud face, or la brutta figura, has always been important to her. Keeping up appearances is what’s important; believing you’re okay when you’re anything but. I guess that’s why I got so good at it; I had the very best teacher.

I stare down at my toes, admiring the line of my leg. With them on, I’m almost 5’9” - model-short, but the word model is in there!

“I don’t have time for this,” I say, only then realizing that my grip around my phone is tight enough to ‘cause some serious electrical malfunctions. “I’m going to call you later. I’ve got to go. Bye, Mom,” I rush out, hanging up on her. I’m going to pay for that – she’ll probably give me the silent treatment until I tell her yes, but that’s not a bad thing.

Radio-silence from my mom would be absolutely spectacular.

I walk back to the table my little gang is sitting at, feeling an unfamiliar churn in my belly when Dean laughs at something Sera said. She grins up at him, then looks down at Matty after he’s tugged her shirt and starts whispering in her ear.