The Rebound Agreement ✔

eight

I anxiously shift my phone back and forth from hand to hand as I lean against the counter in the kitchen of my dorm. My cuticles had already been picked until they bled and my stomach had an obnoxious aching feeling in it.

I shouldn't be nervous. I was just calling my boyfriend to ask him to come to dinner with me at my parents' house. It wasn't anything hard, in fact it was quite easy in theory. But then again, Liam and I didn't necessarily have the kind of relationship that most couples have. Calling him to go to a family event with me wasn't the regular kind of thing we did.

Plus, I didn't initiate anything between Liam and I- ever. He always did. And I felt oddly out of place being put in a position where I had to ask him for something.

Monica pads into the kitchen and pulls herself up until she is sitting on the countertop to my right. I resist the urge to tell her that what she's doing isn't very good for the counter. She pops a piece of bread into the toaster before turning to look at me. The perfectly waxed eyebrows above her pastel blue eyes arch in thought. Based on her minimal makeup and sloppy bun, she doesn't seem as though she's planning on going anywhere today.

She grabs my hand and brings it up to her face to study. "Holy crap, Katie," she exclaims as she inspects my bloody cuticles. "What had you this worried?"

Monica pats the countertop beside her and after deciding that me sitting on the counter once wouldn't break it any more than she already had in the last few months, I hoist myself up.

"So what's up?" she questions me and I let out a sigh.

"So, I kind of got roped into bringing Liam with me to family dinner on Sunday." I don't bother to chase around the bush or lie. Even though Monica and I are two very different people, she's a naturally kind and nonjudgmental person, and if she notices anything fishy about what I'm telling her, I'm certain she'll disregard it completely in order to believe the best about me, because that's just the kind of person she is.

"What's so bad about that?" She questions me. Although most people ask that in order to mock someone, her facial expression as she looks at me confirms her sincerity.

I shift, trying to get comfortable on the hard countertop. "Nothing, I guess," I admit, but my hands are still sweaty with nerves.

"But you're worried," Monica states, concern filling her blue eyes.

"Yeah," I acknowledge. My voice sounds so small, and I hate it. "I'm worried."

"About what?" she prods.

"Calling him. What if he says no? And what if he says yes, but then my mom doesn't like him or my dad does his disappointed face at me like he knows I could do better? And what if he and Cole get in a fight? Or what if what my mom makes for dinner is something he doesn't like?" I let out quickly, all in my one big blur, my lungs aching for breath as I finish.

"Do you really think you can do better than Liam?" Monica asks. If it was anyone other than her asking this, I would wonder if I should be insulted, but coming from her, it was just a question.

"No," I admit.

"Good," she says. "Because if you think you can do better than Liam, then that means you don't love him. And if you don't love him, you shouldn't be dating him."

I stare at the sink across from me and think about this, ignoring the guilt gnawing at me as she somehow hits the nail on the head without even realizing it. After thinking about what an appropriate response would be, I say, "But I don't love him. We just started dating."