As we sat to eat, I told her about the text exchange with Liam.
She let out a joyous whoop. “Yay, I’m so happy for you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. And he’s darned cute.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?”
“Is it even a date?” I asked.
“What do you mean? He asked you out, didn’t he?”
“He asked me to come hang with him and his friends.”
She tapped her lip with her index finger. “True. Hmm, tricky.” She held out her hand. “Gimme your phone.”
“Why?”
“I want to read his texts. I’m an expert on reading between the lines.”
I pulled the phone from my pocket and handed it over. “‘Expert’ might be a slight exaggeration.”
“Do you want my help or not?” she asked, her eyes on my phone as she picked up bacon with her fingers to nibble on.
“Yeah, I do.”
After a few seconds, she said, “He’s definitely flirting with you. My opinion—it’s a date.”
“How can you tell?”
She shrugged. “I just can. And even if it isn’t, go hang out. If you still like him after, youask himout.”