Breathe, Annie, Breathe
Page 27
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“How did you get the name Iggy?” Vanessa asks, shoveling more cheese fries in her mouth.
Iggy peers at us through thick glasses and adjusts the leather bands circling her arms. “My parents named me in honor of the night I was conceived. They were at an Iggy Pop concert getting stoned and they did it in a bathroom. And here I am.”
Uh, okay.
Chewing, Vanessa stares at Iggy for a long moment. Kelsey ignores her cousin, seemingly used to such remarks. How in the world is the former head cheerleader of Hundred Oaks High stepcousins with Iggy the self-proclaimed hipster?
At least I’m sharing a bedroom with Vanessa at college.
“Can we get more cheese fries?” she asks me, gesturing at the empty white plate in front of us.
Anything to get away from this table. I jump to my feet and take my time walking over to the vestibule, where I find my manager, Stephanie.
She grins and I give her my don’t-mess-with-me face. “Can I have another order of cheese fries?”
“Hell, I’ll give you free New York strips if you want ’em. Your mom will be so happy to hear you’re hanging out with friends.”
I lift a shoulder. “We’re making plans for college is all. Nothing big.”
“I’ll get those fries right out to you,” she says, pushing me in the direction of our table. Damn. I’d been planning on loitering in the vestibule until the fries are ready. I slip back into the booth as Kelsey is checking her phone.
“I swear, that boy texts me for every little last thing.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Colton.”
“What did he want this time?” Vanessa asks.
“To let me know he’s awake from his nap.”
Vanessa looks at me out of the corner of her eye and gives me a sly grin. Huh. Does Colton have a thing for Kelsey? When she and her mom moved in with her new landscaper husband, Colton became her new next-door neighbor. They’ve been hanging out for years, but I thought they were just friends.
Kelsey puts her phone away. “Who wants to bring the plunger?”
This goes on for a while longer until Stephanie appears with the cheese fries and some potato skins. Vanessa grins widely, and I wonder where she’s putting all this food. She’s as thin as one of these fries.
Vanessa pops one in her mouth and dusts the salt from her fingers. “We need to discuss suite rules.”
“Like whether or not we’re allowed to cook fish?” Iggy asks.
“Fish?” Vanessa says, crinkling her nose.
“I know from my job at the library that some people are not okay when you cook fish in the microwave. It has a certain odor,” Iggy explains.
“O-kayyy,” Vanessa says. “No, I was not talking about fish, but we can definitely add that to our list of things not to do in the suite.”
Kelsey turns to a new section in her leather planner and writes “Rules of the Suite” in red Sharpie at the top. “I’ll record the rules and email them to everyone for your reference.”
Vanessa leans over and whispers in my ear, “This is why I asked you to share a room.”
“Agreed,” I say.
“I was actually talking about having ‘significant others’ stay overnight in our suite,” Vanessa says. “We need to work out some ground rules.”
“I’m not even at college yet and I’m already being sexiled,” I mutter.
“I say that none of us can have a guy spend the night more than twice a week,” Kelsey says.
“But what if Rory comes to stay on a three-day weekend?” Vanessa asks. “He’s going to college two hours away!”
“You’ll have to decide which two nights matter more,” Kelsey replies.
“You can always pitch a tent in the woods and sleep outside with your boyfriend,” Iggy says. “I have one you can borrow, but it might have a slightly fishy smell.”
Vanessa points at Kelsey with a cheese fry. “Only two nights? You need to get laid, my friend.”
Kelsey points at Vanessa with a green Sharpie. “I’m in a guy drought. You know that.”
Vanessa mutters to me, “Maybe she wouldn’t be in a guy drought if she’d just jump Colton already.”
“I have a great guy I can introduce you to,” Iggy tells Kelsey. “His name is Chevy Ernesto and he publishes his own newspaper, The Nashville Newsmonger. He sells it every day outside Food Lion.”
My mouth falls open. Kelsey ignores her cousin and focuses on punching numbers into her planner’s built-in calculator.
Iggy peers at us through thick glasses and adjusts the leather bands circling her arms. “My parents named me in honor of the night I was conceived. They were at an Iggy Pop concert getting stoned and they did it in a bathroom. And here I am.”
Uh, okay.
Chewing, Vanessa stares at Iggy for a long moment. Kelsey ignores her cousin, seemingly used to such remarks. How in the world is the former head cheerleader of Hundred Oaks High stepcousins with Iggy the self-proclaimed hipster?
At least I’m sharing a bedroom with Vanessa at college.
“Can we get more cheese fries?” she asks me, gesturing at the empty white plate in front of us.
Anything to get away from this table. I jump to my feet and take my time walking over to the vestibule, where I find my manager, Stephanie.
She grins and I give her my don’t-mess-with-me face. “Can I have another order of cheese fries?”
“Hell, I’ll give you free New York strips if you want ’em. Your mom will be so happy to hear you’re hanging out with friends.”
I lift a shoulder. “We’re making plans for college is all. Nothing big.”
“I’ll get those fries right out to you,” she says, pushing me in the direction of our table. Damn. I’d been planning on loitering in the vestibule until the fries are ready. I slip back into the booth as Kelsey is checking her phone.
“I swear, that boy texts me for every little last thing.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Colton.”
“What did he want this time?” Vanessa asks.
“To let me know he’s awake from his nap.”
Vanessa looks at me out of the corner of her eye and gives me a sly grin. Huh. Does Colton have a thing for Kelsey? When she and her mom moved in with her new landscaper husband, Colton became her new next-door neighbor. They’ve been hanging out for years, but I thought they were just friends.
Kelsey puts her phone away. “Who wants to bring the plunger?”
This goes on for a while longer until Stephanie appears with the cheese fries and some potato skins. Vanessa grins widely, and I wonder where she’s putting all this food. She’s as thin as one of these fries.
Vanessa pops one in her mouth and dusts the salt from her fingers. “We need to discuss suite rules.”
“Like whether or not we’re allowed to cook fish?” Iggy asks.
“Fish?” Vanessa says, crinkling her nose.
“I know from my job at the library that some people are not okay when you cook fish in the microwave. It has a certain odor,” Iggy explains.
“O-kayyy,” Vanessa says. “No, I was not talking about fish, but we can definitely add that to our list of things not to do in the suite.”
Kelsey turns to a new section in her leather planner and writes “Rules of the Suite” in red Sharpie at the top. “I’ll record the rules and email them to everyone for your reference.”
Vanessa leans over and whispers in my ear, “This is why I asked you to share a room.”
“Agreed,” I say.
“I was actually talking about having ‘significant others’ stay overnight in our suite,” Vanessa says. “We need to work out some ground rules.”
“I’m not even at college yet and I’m already being sexiled,” I mutter.
“I say that none of us can have a guy spend the night more than twice a week,” Kelsey says.
“But what if Rory comes to stay on a three-day weekend?” Vanessa asks. “He’s going to college two hours away!”
“You’ll have to decide which two nights matter more,” Kelsey replies.
“You can always pitch a tent in the woods and sleep outside with your boyfriend,” Iggy says. “I have one you can borrow, but it might have a slightly fishy smell.”
Vanessa points at Kelsey with a cheese fry. “Only two nights? You need to get laid, my friend.”
Kelsey points at Vanessa with a green Sharpie. “I’m in a guy drought. You know that.”
Vanessa mutters to me, “Maybe she wouldn’t be in a guy drought if she’d just jump Colton already.”
“I have a great guy I can introduce you to,” Iggy tells Kelsey. “His name is Chevy Ernesto and he publishes his own newspaper, The Nashville Newsmonger. He sells it every day outside Food Lion.”
My mouth falls open. Kelsey ignores her cousin and focuses on punching numbers into her planner’s built-in calculator.
