“You don’t go from Hugh straight to a McDreamy, Luce.” I shake my head at her, chuckling under my breath.
“I’ll just take a night with McSteamy,” Megan says, making us all laugh out loud.
I look to Megan, wondering what she would share if I asked. “Megs, how was Sam last night?” I pop my brow at her.
“Fine. We went back to his.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Messed around.”
This is all we ever get from her. She doesn’t share the dirty escapades of her sex life with us. Sometimes we may get snippets, but rarely any details. We don’t care, but it’s odd. She’s one of the most open people we know—especially with us. Nothing comes out filtered. It’s why we love her.
I drop it, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
“So… I ran into Joey again last night,” I say into my food container.
“When?” Lucy looks confused as if trying to work it out.
“When Mason dropped me home—or tried to. I didn’t get out of the car right away, and Joey was waiting for me outside.”
“Fucking creeper,” Megan states.
“He hit Mason, but then Mason pinned him to the car and made him apologise for almost hitting me.”
The girls’ mouths drop open.
“No flipping way,” Lucy says, astonished, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lip.
“I think he broke his nose.” I wince, remembering the awful sound.
“Who, Mason’s?” Megan asks.
“No, Joey’s. Mason punched him back.” The girls look at one another, smirking in unison. “I need to check that Joey is okay on Monday. It was bad, girls.”
“Nina, screw him! Go check on Mason!” Lucy gets up on her knees excitedly and I frown.
“What? No! Did you forget about the part when he called me a prostitute?” I retort.
“Well, did he actually use the word prostitute?” she argues back.
I glower at her as she checks her phone that’s just pinged with a text.
“Uber’s about to arrive.” She jumps up, the two of them going to the kitchen to clear up before saying goodbye.
“Thanks, girls, I needed this today.” I hug them both close.
“Always,” Megan says with a smile.
They are halfway out the door when Luce turns. “Don’t forget lunch at Mum’s tomorrow. It’s your turn to make dessert.”
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling grateful to have them both as my best friends. “Bye, girls.”
* * *
It’s aroundnine when I hear my phone ringing in my bedroom. I rush to grab it, pulling it from the charger and answering it without looking.
“Nina?!” My mother’s shrill voice comes through the line. “Nice of you to finally answer. I’ve been trying to reach you all week. I need some help this month, I can’t manage this place financially on my own.”
I close my eyes as she gives me the same old bullshit excuses. “Hi, Mum. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I mutter.
“Oh please, if you’d had answered my call before now, I wouldn’t be so stressed out. You can be so selfish sometimes.” Ah, there we go with the blame game. It’s my fault she is stressed. It’s my fault the power got cut off. It’s my fault she had to sell her body to pay for new school shoes.
