“
Scott doesn’t suspect anything, right?” I ask.
“Are you kidding? He knows pretty much everything,” Travis says as if there was ever a doubt.
“What? Did you tell him?” I accuse.
“Etty, he’s turning thirty. He’d have to be a moron to not know there is going to be a party. You always order food from the same place, and we both live in a shoe box, so your parents’ house is the only place that could fit more than five people. It didn’t take Einstein.”
I chew on my bottom lip.
“We will have to do something spontaneous,” I say, nodding my head.
“Slow down,” he says, holding up his hands. “Don’t go crazy. The party we planned is fine.”
Why does everyone always say that to me? Like they think I go overboard on everything.
Which is so untrue. Everything I plan is with love, and I am in complete control the whole time. It’s the plans that have a mind of their own. I mean, did I ask the magician to put my mom in that box for his ‘Disappearing Trick’ even though my mother’s claustrophobic? No. And after I calmed her down and she drank a bottle of wine I think even she appreciated that it was a pretty cool trick. And my dad fumbling with the keys to get her unlocked and punching out the magician− it was so romantic.
Sadly, I did lose my security deposit on that one.
”
”