The Boyfriend Project by Rachel Hawthorne Page A

sorry.”
    â€œNot your fault. He wasn’t what I wanted or needed and I knew it five minutes after we met.”
    â€œSo are you going to give someone else a try?”
    â€œOh, sure. In a couple of days. Meanwhile, want to share some ice cream with me?”
    I smiled brightly. “Absolutely.”
    Three minutes later, we were sitting at the counter with a tub of chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream between us. I took a bite, let it slowly melt in my mouth.
    â€œWe’ve had so little time to talk lately,” Mom said. “How are you doing?” While Avery was my best girlfriend, my mom was a close second. And she had many more life experiences.
    â€œTo be honest, I’ve been a little restless. Not unhappy exactly, but feeling like, I don’t know, like I’m missing out on something. I don’t know why.”
    She gave me a sympathetic smile. “You’re on the cusp of adulthood. It’s natural to question things: what you’re going to do with your life, what you want that life to be.”
    â€œI guess that’s it.” But it seemed like it was more, like it was bigger than that. That it had to do with Jeremy and me, with us. That thought scared me. I didn’t want to examine it too closely, so I didn’t try to explain it to my mom because I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. Instead, pretending that her answer made me feel better, I dug in for some more ice cream.

Chapter 8
    JEREMY
    Avery lived a few doors down from Kendall. I always passed her house on my way out of the neighborhood. Tonight as I was driving by, I saw Fletcher sitting on the stairs that led into an apartment over the garage. Avery’s parents were letting him use that room for the summer.
    I saw him lift a bottle to his lips, saw no sign of Avery. I pulled to a stop at the curb just past their house and walked back. Fletcher and I weren’t best buds. I’d barely known the guy before he got involved with Avery.
    But I was feeling a little out of whack since seeing Kendall. I couldn’t explain it but things didn’t seem quite right between us. Not that I thought Fletcher was a Dr. Phil or anything, but he’d had a rep for being a player before Avery convinced him that she was worth leaving all that behind.
    I crossed over the driveway and started up the steps. The light above the garage illuminated him enough for me to see his eyes widen slightly. I didn’t blame him. We never hung out together without the girls being around. “Hey, man,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s up?”
    â€œI just left Kendall. Saw you sitting here. Where’s Avery?”
    â€œGot called into work. Some private party or something at the Shrimp Hut. They needed extra hands.”
    â€œNice for her, money-wise.”
    â€œYeah.” He carried the brown bottle to his lips, tipped it up.
    â€œGot an extra one of those?” I asked. “I could use a beer.”
    He studied me a full minute before saying, “It’s root beer.”
    That surprised me, but at the same time I was relieved. “Okay then, never mind.”
    â€œYou do remember that Avery’s dad is a cop, right?”
    I chuckled. “Yeah.” There were moments when Fletcher really didn’t live up to his rep for getting into trouble.
    â€œSo how’s the lawyer business?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know.” I pointed to a step. “Mind if I sit?”
    Shaking his head, he chuckled. “You are too polite.”
    â€œI’ll take that as a no, you don’t mind.” I dropped downbeside him. I’d had manners drummed into me at an early age. Manners and never appearing slovenly. There isn’t a single photo of me with a hair out of place. When we visited my grandparents at Christmas, I had to sit in a chair until the family photo was taken. No roughhousing with my cousins, no snitching fudge or cookies. Heaven forbid I get a crumb on my white