Foolish Summer | ✔

24 • S T E P H E N • 🤳

I stared at the list in front of me. My research on how to win Waverly back wasn't going too well. The books had a lot of ideas, but none of them would work on her. Waverly wanted a romance novel type of love story, but not some reused stuffed from a book. She'd want something original. Something done specifically for her.

Man, I'd never thought that hard about how to please a girl in my life. Waverly wasn't just a girl, though. She was someone who reminded me how to be myself. I never had to worry about looking stupid in front of her because I knew she wouldn't judge.

Be myself. Maybe that's what I needed to do...

I ripped the list out of my notebook, balled it up and tossed it in the trash. On fresh paper I started a new list. That time I thought about the things I've done with Waverly that I wouldn't tell my friends about, not even if they threatened to kill me.

I was probably going to look like the biggest dumbass in Burbank. It didn't matter. All I cared about was Waverly.

There was almost a whole page of ideas when someone knocked at my door. My first instinct was to hide the the list—old habits.

My mom walked in with her face pinched and eyes zoned in on me. What'd I do that time?

"I've been calling you for an hour."

A quick look at my phone confirmed that. Seven missed calls.

"My bad," I said. "Did something happen?" Knowing her she was calling just because she hadn't cussed me out in today.

"You were supposed to go in to get fitted for you suit today."

Shit. Tailored suits were the very last thing on my mind. "You're still doing that wedding thing?" I asked, swiveling in the chair to face her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can you be serious for two seconds? That's all I ask."

"I forgot," I told, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. All she worried about was the wedding and whether or not I was embarrassing her. "Was reading."

She crossed her arms, brows raised. "Reading? For what?"

"Mental stimulation?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"What? I'm not allowed to read?"

"It's your summer vacation and you've hardly left the house," she pointed out.

"You had me on punishment for a month!"

"Since when has that stopped you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe I'm maturing."

"Yeah. Sure," she said looking up at the ceiling like she was asking God for answers. "I don't ask much of you, Stephen. I let you do your own thing."

I bit back a laugh.

"I asked you to take an hour out of your day to do one thing and you can't even do that?" She stepped further into my room, staring down at me. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Where do I start?" I was half joking. A list of where things went wrong would've been easy to write.

"Stephen," she warned, planting her hands on her hips.

I realized the question wasn't rhetorical. She really wanted an answer. There was one thing she did that wasn't making sense.

"I read your new story."

She barely eben looked surprised. "Oh?"

"Yeah," I said, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. "How can write a story based on me and Waverly, but threaten to fire her mom if we got together?"

She sucked in a breath, letting it go slowly before sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Alicia is an amazing wedding planner," she started. "She pulled together this huge wedding in no time at all."

I leaned back in the desk chair, folding my arms across my chest. "That doesn't answer my question."

She let out another breath before continuing. "Stephen, do you know how many women give me dirty looks because of how you treated their daughters? I didn't want to lose the best event planner I'd ever worked with because you broke her daughter's heart."

I didn't expect that and I definitely didn't expect it to hurt. My own mother—the woman programmed to love me unconditionally—didn't even think I was good enough for Waverly? How could I argue with that?

"You're right," I told her. "I would've messed that up just like I mess up everything else for you."

"Stephen, that's not what I meant." She tried to back track, but she meant what she said. She was a best-selling author; she knew how to use her words. "I just meant—"

She stopped when I stood and started for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. That's what you wanted me to do, right?"

She followed me out of the room and down the stairs. "Stephen, I didn't—"

Whatever she had to say was cut off when I closed the door behind me.

When I got into my car I just wanted to get as far away from my mom as I could. I didn't know where I was going until I was parked outside of LaToya's house.

After our talk the other day she'd probably be pissed to see that I hadn't taken her advice. Still, I pulled out my phone and started to text her that I was there. But when it came to hitting send, I hesitated.

I hadn't talked to Waverly, hadn't even seen her since the party, what if our relationship could still be saved? Maybe this was just one of those stupid miscommunication tropes books used so often.

Hitting send meant putting a definite end to us. Was that what I wanted?

I'd been staring at my phone for so long I went cross eyed. Then my phone ringed.

Waverly's face lit up my screen. I rubbed at my eyes thinking they were messing with me. They weren't.

I accepted the call and before I could get a word out, she started talking.

"I know I shouldn't be talking to you but no one else is answering their phones and I need help."

I was leaving LaToya's street before I even got the details about what happened or where she was even at.