Relying On Ben and Jerry (Waltham #1)

Chapter Sixteen: You Go, Glen Coco

Kline punched me as hard as she possibly could in the arm.

“What were you thinking?” she screeched as I winced and rubbed my sore arm, keeping an eye out for her flailing limbs. “Lena, who is sitting on your shoulder and whispering nonsense into your ear?”

“The voices prefer to remain nameless.” I flinched as she raised her other hand. “Stop hitting me! You’re so abusive!”

“I have to knock some kind of sense into you!” she replied vehemently, aghast. “You turned down a date with Quinton freaking Lancaster to hang out with your friends!”

“So?”

“So?” she demanded incredulously in a scream that could probably be heard in Australia. She reached over and shook me, nearly breaking my neck. “Dude, hoes before bros. Especially when the hoe in question has some mighty fine arms.”

“I think I’m goin’ to throw up now,” Colonel announced from the front seat, grimacing like we nauseated him. “I don’t wanna be hearin’ a think ’bout Lancaster arms. In fact, do you two have to be talkin’ ’bout him right now, at this here exact moment in time?”

“Yes!” Kline exclaimed, throwing her arms up again. “Lena is an idiot. Everyone, please, recognize her idiocy.”

“But she’s a cute idiot,” Peter amended, leaning over the seat to punch my cheek.

I pushed him arm away, glaring at him. “Don’t call me cute. That’s a little too sickly sweet.”

“Adorable?” he offered with his signature smug smirk.

I made a show of rolling my eyes at him before turning back to Kline, crossing my arms over my chest. “I would like to establish that I said no to a friendly hang out because I very fairly already had made plans with another party. Therefore, I had to turn him down on his friendly offer.”

“You’re an idiot,” Kline remained adamant.

“Norma!” I cried, turning to both the driver of the car and the voice of reason. “Please explain to our dear Kline that not only am I not an idiot, but all of Quinton’s intentions were meant to be purely platonic.”

“Sweetie, you’re an idiot,” Norma told me calmly.

I gaped at Kline as she smiled villainously.

“No I’m not!” I insisted.

“Tomatoes, I might be wantin’ to throw up talkin’ ’bout this whole situation you got goin’ for ya here, but they’re right—he sounds like he was goin’ ’bout and askin’ you on a date,” Colonel broke it to me slowly.

“And because you’re adorably naïve and definitely smitten with me,” Peter said, “you turned him down. Hard.”

I looked around at my friends, horrified. “You don’t say,” I choked out, my voice blatantly portraying my horror. Kline patted my back gravely, shaking her head in disappointment.

“I taught you so well,” she told me. “I never thought you would ever let me down like this, padawan. My heart bleeds.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” I remarked, snobbishly turning away from her. Colonel chuckled.

“Oh no, here comes the snob,” he teased, turning around in the passenger’s seat so that he could clearly see my episode. “I don’t understand why you’re chasin’ after Lancaster of all people, Tomatoes, but even I’ve gotta admit that you were ignorant to gettin’ yourself a date. Next time, when it’s not Lancaster hoverin’ all over the place, you’d best be thinkin’ a little bit more.”