Page 13 of Test Me
“It’s this guy,” I interrupted before she could follow through on that threat. “Logan.”
“Ohhhh.” Aly sat up again. “The tutor you wouldn’t shut up about at Thanksgiving?”
“I didn’t—” Had I really talked about him that much? “Yeah. Him.”
“The one who explains physics using lacrosse metaphors and sometimes forgets he’s not wearing glasses and?—”
“Jesus, I need to stop telling you things.”
“Too late.” She grinned. “What happened? Did you try to ask him out and get denied or something?”
I stared up at my ceiling. “No. I didn’t get that far. He’s on a date tonight. With someone else.”
“Oh.” For once she didn’t have a smart response. “But like, is it serious? Are they boyfriends or?—”
“It’s a first date. Some guy he met on an app.”
“Then what’s the problem? You’re way better than some random app guy.”
“You have to say that. You’re my sister.”
“Uh, no I don’t. Remember when you wore those cargo shorts to Spring Fling? I told you exactly how tragic that was.” She paused. “So, what’s the issue? Because the Josh I know doesn’t back down from anything.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “It’s different with him. If I mess this up?—”
“Then what? He’ll stop tutoring you?” She rolled her eyes. “From everything you’ve told me about him, he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”
“He’s not.” That was part of the problem. Logan was Logan. Smart and funny and a little prickly sometimes, but in this way that made me want to break through his walls. “But what if?—”
“Oh my god, you really like him.” Her eyes went wide. “Like,like himlike him.”
“Are you twelve?”
“I’m supportive,” she said, while flipping me off.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes back at her, then changed the subject. “So… if you were going to receive something, uh,highly portable, for Christmas, what?—”
“Oh, you mean like a COACH clutch?” Aly perked, batting her lashes at me.
“Possibly.”
“Subtle, Josh. Don’t think I missed you changing the subject. Gosh, you’re so suave.”
“Fuck off and let me finish. If you were going to receive thishighly portablegift for Christmas—which I’m not saying is a clutch. Maybe it’s a first aid kit for when you inevitably face-plant again trying to walk in those stupid platform shoes you insisted were comf?—”
“That wasonetime.”
“What color would you want it to be?”
“Um…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Definitely not brown or taupe or beige.” I made a face, thinking of the taupe clutch currently sitting in my closet. “Oh my god, you got me taupe didn’t you?” Her eyes went wide with horror.
“It’s neutral, it goes with everything!” I protested.
“No, it’s boring. I like actual colors. Like green, or pink, or purple, or, like, pale, pale blue with white piping and gold hardware. Get my drift?”
“Got it.” I remembered seeing a pale blue clutch with white piping and passing it over thinking she’d consider it too baby-ish.
“This is why you need a hot tutor boyfriend. He can help you Christmas shop.” She grinned. “We’re not done talking about him.”