Kate in Waiting Becky Albertalli (best way to read books TXT) đ
- Author: Becky Albertalli
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Meanwhile, Ellen and Mom are basically just complaining about Mattâs dad. âHe wanted to get him a BB gun. Can you believe it? Matthew was six. I said, âAbsolutely not. Not in my house.ââ
âOh my God. Yes. No, of course. It just makes me so angry. And those hyperrealistic toy weapons. Hate them. Oh, and paintball!â Momâs in full rant mode now, about the eighth-grade paintball trip the athletic association sponsors every February. âItâs so dangerous. I always tell Ryan and Kate no. Absolutely never. Not at home. Not at campââ
âOh, thatâs right!â Ellen turns toward me in her chair. âMatthew tells me you guys all worked together at camp this summer. What a neat coincidence!â
âI know.â I smile, but my eyes flick back to the boys. Andersonâs telling some story, tapping his fingertip to his palm. Ryanâs staring into space. But Mattâs hanging on every word.
âWell your mom and I loved doing the plays at camp. And you know, we grew up together around here, too. Different schools, but we were in a few shows together at the rec center.â
Out of nowhere, Andy and Matt burst out laughing. So fantastic. So glad theyâre having such a fantastic fucking time together.
But oof. I donât like this feeling. I donât know where that little voice in my head is coming from. It doesnât even make sense for me to be jealousâIâm the one who invited Anderson. This morning! Literally today! And in what universe would I ever prefer his absence to his presence? I mean, itâs Anderson. So maybe I should stop beaming stink eye down the table with my mind and step up to the plate.
âHey, do you guys want toââ
A burst of laughter from Andy and Matt. My words disappear.
âYou donât even know.â Anderson shakes his head. âAnd he had this whole thing with Lansing. You should have seen his face when Kate thought Detroit was the capitalââ
âWait.â I lean in. âAre you talking about Alexander from campââ
âRemember how you couldnât call him Alex? Had to be Alexander,â Andy says.
âOh, but I liked that,â I say. âIt was sweet.â
âHe was insanely hot, though,â Andy says. âIâd wife that, for sure.â
And there it isâthat tiny indentation in Andyâs cheeks. The Dimple of Self-Consciousness. I know this moment. It took me a few years to recognize it in the wild, but this is Andy coming out. He glances sideways, and I can almost feel him holding his breath, waiting for Matt to react.
âI mean, youâd have to move to Lansing if you wifed that,â Matt says. âNo question.â
Andy grins. âI hear Lansingâs pretty amazing.â
âAccording to Alexander,â I say.
âWe both know you googled the shit out of that town,â Andy says. He turns to Matt. âFor the record, Kate had just as big of a crush on that dude as I did.â
And of courseâof courseâAndyâs words land smack-dab in the center of one of those random conversational pauses.
Mom turns to Andy, openly delighted. âKate had a crush?â
I shoot Andy my most violent death glare.
He bites his lip. âUm, it wasnât reallyââ
âYou know what?â I stand abruptly. âI need . . . something.â
âIâll come with you.â Andy practically leaps out of his chair. âBe right back,â he calls over his shoulder, already well on his way to my bedroom.
I shut the door behind us. âWhat was that?â
âKaty, Iâm sorry! She was having her own conversation over there. I didnât thinkââ
âYou realize sheâs going to remember this forever, right? Iâll be hearing about Alexander from Michigan for the rest of my life.â I sink onto the edge of my bed.
âDo you think maybe youâre overreacting? Just a little?â He settles in beside me, hooking his arm around my back.
âNo!â I lean my head on his shoulder and sigh. âShut up. I just donât like people knowing about my crushes. You know that. Come on, thatâs privileged information.â
âKaty, itâs a two-year-old crush.â
âYeah, well, the Code of Secrecy has no statute of limitationsââ
âTechnically, itâs not a code violation unless I tell Alexander.â
I glare at him.
âI still think that dude was gay,â Andy says. âRemember when he touched my hair?â
âDidnât you say that was some racist microagressive bullshitââ
âOh, it one hundred percent was.â He pats the top of his Afro and sends a side-eye out into the universe. âBut the way he did it so tenderly? I was like, sir, youâre gayââ
âWhat? No. He was bi. He had that girlfriend!â
âIn Lansing,â says Andy. âHis fake-ass girlfriend from fake-ass Lansingââ
âExcuse meââ
âEXCUSE ME, LANSING, MICHIGAN, IS REAL, AND ITâS THE CAPITAL.â
I crack a smile.
He hugs me sideways. âI love your face, Katypie.â
âI love your stupid face, too.â I roll my eyes. âCome on, letâs go see if dessertâs ready.â
Scene 13
Saturdayâs weather is pure liquid nonsense. Iâm admittedly kind of a brat about rain. Itâs essential, and thatâs fine. I support its existence. I just donât get why rain has to be so rude. It doesnât care about your plans, your hair, anything. Rain just slides right in, like some ecological fuckboy in your DMs. No permission asked or granted, leaving you no choice but to roll with it.
Which is why today is a donât-leave-the-house day. A pajama day. An official squad homework accountability day. Andyâs off doing audition prep with his voice teacher, but the girls are here, and Brandieâs even doing real work. Sheâs sprawled on my bed, thumbing through a massive paperbackâLes MisĂ©rables in its original French. Brandieâs in her own league when it comes to languages. Sheâs always been fluent in English and Spanish, and even though she didnât start French until middle school, sheâs fluent in that now, too. Sheâs too advanced even for AP, so now sheâs taking an independent study in French literature. But Madame Blanche lets her pick her own books, so Brandie can pick stuff she actually likes. Youâd think other teachers could be that thoughtful, but
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