Page 119 of Meet Cute Reboot

I lean over my knees and cover my ugly cry with my hands.

“I don’t think that’s helping,” Mom warns.

Madison begins stroking my back. “What’s wrong? You can tell us.”

I can continue avoiding or I can spill it and appease their curiosity. I choose the path of least discomfort, the one that will get them off my back as soon as possible. “I spent the night with Luke.”

Nana gasps. Aunt Suzanne looks surprised, but she spares me the judgmental vocalizations.

“I’m not sleeping with him,” I say, cutting to the chase. “It was just an...overnighter.” I suck in a breath to calm my involuntary gasps.

“So, youaresleeping with him,” Nana says.

“No! I just said I’m not. Nothing happened.” Except for an epic make-out session, the memory of which makes me want to giggle and gag simultaneously.

Aunt Suzanne pulls another lawn chair toward Nana, and then rests her hands on Nana’s shoulders, gently coaxing her into the seat. “Just let her talk.”

“Tell us what happened,” Madison says gently.

“We were ghost hunting. His ghost, Betsy, started moaning, and we found cats in the crawlspace.” I sniff.

“And...” Mom prods.

“And we kissed. A few times. And then this morning, his other girlfriend barged through the front door and started making out with him.”

Nana gasps again.

“Oh, honey,” Mom says softly.

“Is Luke the handsome one?” Granny asks.

“Yes,” Madison says.

“Ooo, boy.” Granny thumps her cane against the floorboards. “I always liked him.”

“So, you thought things were going well with him—” Mom says.

“But he’s still a cheater,” Madison finishes.

I nod while a fresh batch of tears pours down my face. “That’s not it though.”

“Isn’t that enough?” Nana says.

“Your house is falling apart!” The ugly cry resumes and I hide it with my hands.

A car passes the house, rumbling over the asphalt. It makes me want to run to my car and rumble on out of here.

“What’s that got to do with Luke?” Nana asks.

I lean back and take three deep breaths. “Everything,” I say as I look up at the porch ceiling, its paint peeling and flaking like the rest of the house. “He’s funding MatchAI. But I can’t take his money. Not now.”

“You’ll find a new investor,” Mom says.

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. In the meantime, the garage is going to collapse, you’re all going to boil in the heat, the roof on the house is going to rot away, the neighborhood organization is going to keep hassling Nana.”

“You don’t worry about me and that nasty organization,” Nana says. “I got it under control.”

I meet eyes with Nana. “They’re never going to leave you alone about that garage.”