The New Guy Read Online Free Page B

still means something that you were chosen to be editor.”
    I open my mouth to explain that my current look of weirdness and confusion isn’t about the
Crest
but Sadie’s insane text. In fact, it might even be to overcompensate for how just the
idea
of Alex makes me start to smile. Of course—despite what Sadie’s messaging—it means nothing! And so the very last thing I want to do right now is explain to Mom why a former boy-band member definitively is
not
into me. So I just shrug and let her believe I’m upset about the thing I was—to be fair—upset about only sixty seconds ago.
    “I know, Mom.” I try with all my faking ability to look like I mean it too. I’m not sure if she believes me, but I manage to weasel out of this sentimental moment and pick up the recipe card.
    The meatballs recipe is written out in the perfect script of my great-grandmother, who died before I was born. For the most part my family eats like normal LA people. We get our kale at the weekly farmers’ market, have Meatless Mondays because it’s healthy and also helps the environment, and go out for sushi at least twice a month (usually more). But Mom’s the only one in her family who wanted the recipe box when her grandmother died, and once a week we cook something from it with only a few twenty-first-century changes.
    My phone dings with a new text, and once I see that it’s Sadie again, I don’t even read the message before turning the phone facedown on the counter.
    “It’s a big day for you,” Mom says. “Go call your friends, and I can finish this.”
    “It’s not a big day, and I don’t want to call my friends. Can’t I just make meatballs in peace?”
    “Of course.”
    Mom and I split up the rest of the ingredients. She measures out and adds ricotta, milk, and Parmesan, while I do the same with bread crumbs, basil, parsley, and salt. We split the eggs because it’s our dumb tradition to see who can break them fastest. Mom wins tonight. One of my favorite things about cooking is—egg-breaking contests or not—how calming it can be. Dinner will be full of conversation, but this part isn’t.
    Though tonight the silence isn’t doing it for me. Not with Sadie’s text flashing constantly in my head.
    “It’s just that this new guy started today, and I was his liaison, and so he was talking to me a lot because of that, and Sadie thinks it means something.”
    I don’t mean to say it, but I’m not that surprised I do. I’ve never been skilled at keeping much from my parents, but normally there isn’t much to keep.
    “Maybe it does mean something,” Mom says.
    “Sadie’s crazy, and you know that.”
    Mom laughs because she’s too nice to actually agree about Sadie’s sanity levels.
    “A boy could like you,” Mom says, and I feel my face getting hot, which means my face is getting red. Stop it, face! Work with me, not against me. “Would that be awful?”
    “No, Mom, the point is it wouldn’t be possible.” I feel like I’m getting too worked up, so I focus on mixing everything. You have to do it with your hands to get the best results, which is a little gross, but Mom did it last time, so it’s my turn.
    “You’re pretty great,” Mom says.
    “Great to your mom is not like being great to a guy,” I say. “And, anyway, I don’t have time for guys. You know that.”
    “I know that? I know nothing of the sort!”
    “I’m getting into Brown,” I say. “I have to.”
    “You
want
to,” Mom says. “You know you can’t control your own destiny.”
    Mom says things like this all the time, but I think she believes way too much in things like
destiny
. I’m pretty sure you can make anything happen if you work hard enough, and I’m positive Darcy agrees with me. Darcy aced law school, passed the bar exam on her first attempt, and takes work home with her not because she has to, but because she wants to. It isn’t that I don’t think that both of my parents work hard, but Mom might sometimes