Page 12 of Lessons in Lemonade

Groupies . . . yeah, the novelty of those wore off years ago. Now I find even the idea of it is a hassle. They are all about posting pictures on social media and tons of tagging, and it takes forever for these things to go away. Honestly, I’m just not interested anymore.

Me: A gentleman never kisses and tells.

Meg: You’re not a gentleman—you’re a hopeless flirt.

Me: Only with you.

Meg: *palm on forehead emoji*

Which is true. For whatever reason, I can’t seem to stop myself when it comes to her. I know we’re just going to be friends—she made that more than clear at Zach’s over the summer, which I think has me more excited than much of anything lately—but it’s just so much fun provoking her.

Meg: Seriously, though, how’s the picnic?

Me: How do you know we’re at a picnic?

I shovel the last of the food from my plate in my mouth.

Meg: I talked to Lexi.

Me: You should have come as her assistant, then we could have hung out.

Stretching my legs out in front of me, I lean back to let the food settle and chug down half my water bottle in one go.

Meg: Because that wouldn’t have been awkward.

Me: Why would it have been awkward?

Meg: Because I’m not family, and I barely know you.

Looking up, I glance at all the people standing around laughing and talking. The organization has well over five hundred employees; add in their dates, spouses, and some children, and there are a lot of people here.

Me: It would have been fine. Actually, it would have been better than fine, and you could have gotten to know me.

She doesn’t have a comeback to that (not sure what she would even say), and there’s a lull in our conversation. A few people stop to say hello as they pass by, but for the most part I’m content just sitting here people watching. Seeing my friends happy makes me happy.

I spot Bryan and Lexi, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist. They are laughing with Reid and Camille, and I can’t resist snapping a photo and sending it to Meg. If Lexi told her she was coming, I’m sure she’s wondering how things are going with Bryan. I think all of us were interested to see how the two of them would interact today, and they look good, at ease. Meg responds immediately.

Meg: You have no idea how much this picture just made my day.

Me: Good, I’m glad. I’ll let you make mine at Thanksgiving.

Meg: Wait! You’re going to be at Zach’s, too?

Me: I am. I’m looking forward to tasting your food.

Meg: Jack . . .

Me: I mean it! I love food. Like really love food.

There’s a pause, and then it shows me that she’s typing.

Meg: All right, then for you I will make something special.

Me: Special—see, I knew you loved me.

Meg: *eye roll emoji*

A bit later I put up my post for the day, a picture of a few of us on the field. The stadium is blurred in the background, and Reid, Camille, and Lexi are laughing as I’ve scooped Lexi up and tossed her in the air. Bryan, not so much, but the look on his face had me throwing my head back and howling with laughter. Poor dude’s got it bad. I’ve captioned it Catching fireflies, as her shirt is visible and shows her company name, Firefly Kitchen. I added a few hashtags about the event for Lexi, and it takes no time at all for Meg to comment.