Smart Girl by Rachel Hollis Page A

Hazel from The Fault in Our Stars must have felt like. Where’s an oxygen tank when you need one? “I said I needed to work out to counteract all of the licorice I’ve been eating lately. I never said anything about getting in shape, and I certainly wouldn’t willingly ask to run.”
    “It’s just three miles.” Max grins at me, masochist that she is. “And we’re almost back to the car.”
    Only three miles. I grumble it in my head since I just used up all of my air supply on that last diatribe. I hate running, but I also just want this ungodly exercise to end, so I refuse to stop and walk, because then it’s going to take even longer to get back to the car. When we finally make it back around, Max suggests we stretch out our legs. I take this as an excuse to crumple to the ground in a heap and then do some random stretches I remember from eighth-grade PE.
    “I’m going to miss you guys next week,” Landon tells Max. “I had so much fun with y’all last year.”
    “We’ll see you, like, two days later. It’s not like you’re going off to war.”
    Landon smiles.
    “Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve never brought a man home to meet my parents, so I’m not totally sure how Daddy is going to react.”
    “I’m more interested in how Brody is going to react.” I wink at her. “I’ve met your family, and that’s a whole lot of Texas coming at a person at once. I can’t wait to hear how he reacts to them.”
    “Speaking of parents, I’m super disappointed I won’t get to meet yours.” Landon smiles at me.
    My parents are coming to visit for Thanksgiving, and my mom is making a big lunch for us at Tosh’s place before we head to the Ashtons’ for dessert. Viv was nearly apoplectic when she heard they were coming into town and wouldn’t be coming to her holiday feast. She insisted on us joining them in some capacity. We agreed to come over for dessert. No one in my family is very good at baking, and everyone has heard about Max’s culinary creations, so it was an easy sell.
    “Well, it should be a hoot to watch. My parents are absolutely nothing like yours,” I tell Max.
    “Thank God for that!” Max grins. “Who could handle that much micromanaging in one holiday?”
    “Speaking of holiday managing”—I wink at Landon again—“does Brody know you’ll be sleeping in separate bedrooms at your parents’ house?”
    “Of course he knows.” Landon laughs at the frown Max is shooting my way. “Just like you know that we don’t—”
    “I thought we talked about my disinterest in this particular conversation,” Max gripes.
    “Yes, let’s change the subject, please.” Landon adjusts her ponytail. “Let’s talk about Brody and my parents, because Miko’s right—there is a whole lot of southern coming at him at one time.”
    “Oh, Brody has always done well with parents. The Barkers absolutely adored him.”
    Max says it while folded over in a butterfly stretch, so she doesn’t see Landon’s face morph instantly into confusion. She must realize what she’s said, though, because she sits upright quickly.
    “I’m sorry, Landon. I didn’t mean to bring her up so flippantly.”
    I look back and forth between Max and Landon, having no idea what they’re talking about. Landon bites her lip.
    “What are you talking about?” she asks.
    Yikes! I guess I’m not the only one.
    Gruff or grouchy or pissed or teasing—I have seen Max a lot of different ways. But at a loss for words? Never.
    She gapes at Landon like a fish.
    “It’s nothing,” she says finally, finding enough composure to attempt to sound casual.
    Landon frowns. “If it’s nothing, then why not just tell me what you’re talking about? Who are the Barkers?”
    “Barkers as in Barker-Ash?” I add.
    Max glares at me.
    “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.” I glare right back. “You’re only making her more nervous by being secretive about it.”
    Max stands up and dusts off the seat of her pants. We