“What?” Lila paused the movie right when he swung wide, showing off his pecs. “Oh, now that is nice, even for a white boy.”
“You’re just spoiled because Hector’s so massive.”
Lila waggled her eyebrows. “Is he ever.”
Rachel and Kenzie laughed, then Kenzie frowned. “He hasn’t texted either. I think Evan might be mad at me.”
Rachel and Lila said nothing. Kenzie knew she’d missed something.
“What? What’s going on?”
“Well, Kenzie…” Rachel paused.
“You see…” Lila paused.
They didn’t speak.
And she knew.
“No. No way. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t have heard me losing it.”
“He was, actually. I’m so sorry.” Lila moved next to her to hug her. “He and Daniel heard you yell, and they were by the hallway near the back door. I guess he stayed to make sure you were okay and heard enough.”
“Oh God.” She tried to recall everything she’d said, and what she remembered was bad. The tears fell, as they did so easily since she’d caught that crud Daniel had brought home from school. And speaking of crud, her stomach rumbled. She darted into the bathroom and heaved until she had nothing left.
Then, feeling spent, she washed out her mouth and dried her eyes. “I’m still sick, and my life sucks.”
“Now, now.” Rachel covered the lower half of her face with her sweatshirt, protecting herself from Kenzie’s germs though she sat on a chair a few feet away. “Look, Evan loves you. He said it himself. If I was him, I’d be mad and upset.”
“And hurt.”
“You’re not helping, Lila.” Rachel glared her friend to silence. “And hurt, yes. But he also loves you, Kenzie, enough that he bought you a ring.”
“It was pretty. And big. And he loved me.” Kenzie sniffed.
“Loves, with ans.” Rachel nodded. “Look, you said yourself you felt rushed and pressured. So he owns some of that too.”
“But I said yes.”
Lila nodded. “Yes, you did. So you own a good portion of the crapfest that is now your life.”
Rachel rolled her eyes.
“No, Rach.” Kenzie wiped her eyes. “Let her tell it to me straight. That’s Lila’s specialty.”
“You’re damn right.” Lila sat next to Kenzie, uncaring of her illness, and poked her in the chest.
“Ow.”
“You, shut it and listen. You have friends, family, and a kickass job that, yes, occasionally requires creative spending. True?”
“Yes.”
“You got shit on all over by a man who said he loved you and ditched. And he hurt Daniel. True?”
“Yes.” Ouch.
“But you’re here now. You’re healthy. You can hear, see, smell, breathe, walk, run. I mean, in the big scheme of things, what are you really complaining about? You got your heart broken big-time. But you’re still alive and kicking. Your life could be much worse. You could be homeless. You could have cancer. Or you could—”
