“He did say it wasn’t that kind of date,” I say quietly. “We both assumed something different, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.”
“Why?” she blurts. “Why would he do that? You know I’ve been binging those weird healthy cookies my mom bought, counting down to every juicy detail I thought you’d give me and this is what I get?”
I raise a brow, folding my arms. “You haven’t even let me tell you why.”
“Okay.” She exhales dramatically, crossing her legs and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then tell me.”
“I can’t give you details,” I say after a short pause. “It’s personal to him. But today is his—”
“Wait,” she cuts in suddenly, holding up a hand. Her head tilts slightly. “Do you hear that?”
I stop talking and listen. The room falls quiet and then I hear three soft knocks at the do
