When peer pressure pushes Lenny to try out a new dating app, she starts to realize that the past may not always define the future.
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Lenny Harlow wants a lot of things, but a boyfriend isn't...
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SURPRISINGLY, KAYLEE WASN'T THE FIRST to lose at Monopoly, Jonah was. Then me, then Deja, then... "I give up. You are impossible to beat, and it's so boring playing with one person." Kaylee dropped her miniature silver wheelbarrow. "Anyway, I didn't lose-"
"Because you cheated," Jonah cut in.
Kaylee smiled, eyes twitching, and titled her head to the side. "You are so lucky I'm exhausted, Jonah."
"What're you gonna do, hit me with a pillow?"
Deja, who'd begun putting away the game pieces, looked up just as Kaylee reached for a crutch, probably to pummel Jonah with. I suck a glance at Nash, who wore a smug grin on his tired looking face.
"That's it. Both of you, upstairs, now," said Deja. She was clearly in Mom Mode, what, with her hand poised on her lip like that. "It's past your bedtime."
"But they leave tomorrow," said Kaylee, "and we don't have to be up early."
"We have church tomorrow, Kaylee," Jonah reminded her.
Kaylee frowned at him, then directed her glare to his mom. "I won't forget this." She picked up her crutches. "Let's go, J."
Nash picked up a stack of Dollars. "Looks like the two of you have something in common," he muttered cheekily.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kaylee and I asked in unison.
"Just that you both have something in common." He got up. "Alright, you two, upstairs. Jonah, help Kaylee with her crutches."
They had a stairlift. Of course, they had a stairlift. I didn't know how I hadn't noticed it until then. I even used the stairs, for Pete's sake. Imperceptiveness does not apply to reality. Get your eyes checked.
"Do you want anything to drink?"
At the sound of his voice, I glanced around. Deja was gone, and all I could hear were receding footsteps. "Like, soda, or ..."
He let out a low chuckle, smiled. I caught sight of a dimple, but it could've been the lighting. After all, I'd seen him smile multiple times, and I'd never noticed any indentations. "I was thinking Black Russian."
I sat up straighter. "You mix drinks?"
Nash shrugged. "Sometimes. I'm friends with an alcoholic-I mean that in a nice way, but don't tell him I said that-and you look like you could use a drink." He pulled in his lip. "You seem a little tense."
With a snort, I hugged my knees to my chest. "Yeah, I guess I do. Spending the night at a person's house for the first time will do that to you."
More footsteps. He disappeared into the kitchen. Metal hit the ceramic flooring. He cursed, put it back, most likely, emerged with a tray bearing two old fashioned glasses, a small glass bowl of ice, and a bottle of Black Russian.
