Page 2 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition
He doesn’t even attempt to look at my bookshelves of awesomeness. One judge-y fist snaps to his hip as he flicks his other hand dismissively. “Okay,thisis not an organized closet.” He makes a supremely dramatic, sweeping gesture. “Thisis a declaration of celibacy and a silent cry for help.”
“These aren’t celibate clothes. I wore these clothes back when I was still having sex with Brent.”
“You mean before or after you broke up for thelastlast time?”
I sigh. “No comment.” I may have had sex with Brent once or twice in the four months since we officially broke up—but in my defense—it was really boring sex and it made it easier for me to get over him. And we were still living together because Ididn’t have time to find a new apartment while I was finishing out the school year in Paso Robles, and it seemed like a better option than moving back in with my parents. And I was a little bit drunk.
Franklin continues to stare into the abyss of my somewhat conservative apparel. “Permission to take this dumpster fire of a wardrobe, which represents your dumpster fire of a love life, to an actual dumpster and set fire to it.”
“Permission not granted. These are very work appropriate. Seven-year-olds like and respect me when I wear these clothes.”
“Right, well, my grown man penis literally started shriveling up as soon as I saw these cardigans.”
“It’s taken me years to assemble this selection of fun cardigans.”
“That is the saddest sentence I have ever heard, and there is no such thing as a fun cardigan.”
“Could you maybe wait until you’re actually the host of a makeover show before acting like the snippy host of a makeover show all the time?”
“Just because you don’t see any cameras following me around, that doesn’t mean I’m not the snippy host of a makeover show. And I’m about to remind you of who you really are and not who you thought Brent and your parents wanted you to be. You know what the title of this episode is? It’s called ‘Dress You Up in Self Love.’ Cue Black Eyed Peas song. Commence shopping and makeover sequence.”
“It’s very confusing when you reference a Madonna song and then cue up a Black Eyed Peas song.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his temples like I’ve given him a migraine. “Shut up. Just shut up and be your fun self, I’m begging you.”
“Thisismy fun self. Dude, I just moved to Los Angeles.AndI just called you ‘dude.’ That’s like…next level fun.”
I get zero response for that, not even an eye roll.
I cross my arms and frown at him. “Cardigans can be very sexy with the right accessories, you know?”
He scoffs. “Did you hear that, Atticus?”
Atticus barks and gazes up at me lovingly. Such a big, sweet, nonjudgmental dog. Why can’t everyone be a dog?
“Ferris. I’m not going to buy all-new clothes just for one night out.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re buying quality secondhand clothes for every night that’s not a school night. I’m taking you to my favorite consignment stores before dinner. You don’t have to spend big to live large.Mantra.”
“See, but to me, living large means staying in to read a six-hundred-page book and eating an entire bag of white cheddar popcorn.”
He slaps his hands to his face like Macauley Culkin on theHome Aloneposter. “My darling Emilia. What has life done to you?”
Good question.
I guess I’m not opposed to doing some harmless LA Cute Guy Sightseeing.
Okay, I’msoready to do some semi-harmless LA Cute Guy Sightseeing.
Franklin entwines his arm with mine. “We are going to take Atticus for a quick walk, and then—cue Lizzo song—I’m taking you shopping for our nights out.”
Atticus is already up, tail wagging and looking back and forth between us. He’s such a good, sweet dog. Never any trouble. If I could find a guy like Atticus, I would date him in a heartbeat.
“Fine. But you better not abandon me for a hot guy.”
“When have I ever done that?”
I give him the side-eye.
