Relying On Ben and Jerry (Waltham #1)

Chapter Three: Best Friends Forever

“I met a boy today,” I blabbed the moment the phone call connected to Aubrey’s phone miles and miles away, nearly bouncing in my shoes. Well, socks, since I wasn’t wearing shoes, but it was the same thing. My air mattress bounced like a trampoline. “And he’s so cute. He’s a whole other adjective. I’m drooling just thinking about him.”

Aubrey didn’t say anything, so I just kept talking.

“So he sails. And he’s hot. Did I mention that before? He’s so cute. He sails, like, real boats.”

“I never thought this day would come,” my best friend’s monotone voice echoed through the earpiece. I slowed down my verbarrhea and felt my eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

“What day?” I demanded.

“The day that you find your soul mate!” she thrilled before squealing and clapping her hands like a mentally challenged seal. She squealed, and I felt my face turn red at the same time that my heart began to do some impressive acrobatics around my ribcage. I choked on my spit a little bit when her words sunk into my brain.

“Whoa, wait,” I called out once I coughed enough to give me a sore throat. “No one said a thing about soul mates. Truth be told, I kind of find that a little disturbing.”

“But he sails,” she mocked me.

My eyes narrowed. “I happen to find that very impressive.”

“I’m sure that I would find his arms very impressive. Did you get a good look at his biceps?”

I thought about it, and then sighed. “Not really. I was too busy staring at his abnormally white teeth.”

“You’re killing me here, Smalls,” she groaned. “I need some details about his anatomy. How can you look at a pair of snags instead of paying the least bit of attention to his muscle mass?”

“Because I’m not you?” I replied simply, rolling my eyes. “You’re so superficial, Aubrey. There are more to boys then their looks.”

“Liar,” she snapped.

I laughed. “You’re going to be such a crazy cat lady!” I told her, still laughing into the phone. She laughed back, but the sound was interrupted on my end by a pounding on one of my walls, startling me nearly out of my wits. I looked over in the direction of the noise, confused, before it echoed once more, this time followed by my brother’s voice, sounding like a chorus of tone-deaf alley cats.

“Will you shut your trap, woman?” he barked through the wall. “Some of the house is trying to sleep.”

Watson hissed at the wall, curled up at my feet, and Felton faded back into silence with a couple of mutterings.

I turned my attention back to the phone and said, “Sorry, a troll was trying to interrupt our conversation.”

“A certain blond one?” Aubrey demanded, and then swooned a little. “Oh my lordy. Did it get hot in here or is it just you?”

“You live in Florida,” I pointed out. “You probably forgot to close a window.”

“Alright, steering us right back on topic—what’s this mystery boy’s name?”

“Quinton,” I replied, and my tummy went all tingly. Aubrey laughed a little.

“That’s a terrible name.”

“I like it!” I objected, frowning. “Taylor Lautner is a girly name.”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” she shrieked.

“Seriously, what is with you today? You’re acting strange.”

“No ice cream,” she mumbled, then sighed. “Tell me more about this boy. You can’t tell me that you haven’t been creeping on his house all day.”