Perfect on Paper by Sophie Gonzales

Author:Sophie Gonzales
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

“Hot cocoa or hot chocolate?” Mom asked, hovering halfway between the kitchen and the living room. In this case, “hot chocolate” referred to a particularly indulgent recipe she’d picked up from one of the teachers at school a couple of years back. I personally thought of it as “rich people hot chocolate,” but wasn’t going to call it that with Brougham in earshot.

I pretended to think about it. “Well, given Ainsley polished off the Phish Food, I vote hot chocolate.” I turned to Brougham, who had just tucked himself in on the sofa, cocooned in what had been my favorite fluffy turquoise blanket as a kid. “Agreed, or…?”

Brougham pulled the blanket tighter around him. Mom was notoriously stingy with central heating. She believed there was never a need for it in California. “I didn’t know there was a difference.”

“In this house, you can have powdered hot cocoa,” Mom said. “Or decadent, creamy, real dark chocolate slowly melted over a saucepan and stirred in with full-cream milk.”

“Settle down, Mom.” I grinned. She should’ve worked in marketing.

“Well, I would also like a hot chocolate, and I want Alexander to make the right decision. But it’s up to you.” She gave him a megawatt smile.

Brougham looked between us then shook his head. “Well, how could I say no when you put it like that?”

“You couldn’t. I’ll be back in five.”

“Wait, are you watching the movie with us?” I called after her.

“I wish, sweetie, but I have tests to grade.”

“I think one of those is mine,” Brougham said to me.

“It is!” Mom’s voice rang out, distant but audible. “I’ve already graded it. You did very well, you just need to tighten the paragraphs a little next time, hon.”

Brougham stuck out his lower lip. “No worries. Thank you!”

Well, if Mom wasn’t joining us, and Ainsley was upstairs editing a new video she wanted to upload in the morning, then it was just Brougham and me. Which meant we had full control of the TV. Just the way I liked it.

“Any suggestions?” I asked, scrolling through the list of available movies with the remote.

“Hmm, depends. Are you more into jump scares, or generally unsettling shit?”

“I do love being unsettled.”

“There’s a new one out that’s supposed to be creepy. Poppy, I reckon it’s called. But I don’t think it’s got the best reviews.”

“Sometimes things that aren’t the critics’ favorite turn out to be pretty okay,” I said.

“Totally agree. So I’d be down for that. Otherwise … wait, have you seen Respawn?”

I blinked. “I don’t think so.”

“Really? With the Pincers, and the moving objects, and…” He trailed off at my blank expression. “You have to.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“It’s campy. It has a cult following!”

“Oh my god.”

“I am insisting right now.”

Well, given how the last time he’d insisted on sharing something with me turned out, at least it was likely to be entertaining. I giggled. “Fine, fine, okay, but if your taste in horror sucks we can’t be friends.”

“Can we still be colleagues?”

“As long as the price is right, I’ll happily sell out my integrity for you, Brougham.

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