“Hey,” I say, barely loud enough for them to hear.
They both jump, twisting their attention toward me. Kennedy smiles brightly.Super weird.Where’s the combative teenager refusing to do algebra?Megan waves an oven-mitted hand.
“You two look like you’re having fun,” I say.
“Enchiladas and brownies,” Kennedy squeals. “I’m licking the bowl. Want some?”
“No. Not with your spit all over it.”
She scoffs. “Oh, like that stopped you from stealing my Dr Pepper the other day.”
“It was hot out, and you had good ice.” I tap her on the head. “This all smells amazing.”
“It’s Megan’s recipe,” Kennedy says. “Well, it’s someone’s recipe from Los Angeles who Megan used to know. We were both starving after school, so we ran to the store and picked up the stuff to make it.”
“I hope that’s okay,” Megan says.
Her face is glowing. Shiny eyes, rosy cheeks. She looks prettier than ever before.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I say. “I should’ve left you money. I didn’t think about it. I’ll pay you back. How much was it?”
“It’s fine,” she says, running a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it.”
I give her a look not to fuck with me, but she winks.Naturally.
“Got all of my homework done,” Kennedy says, stopping Post Malone. “I have a piece of paper for you to sign from Ms. Falconbury, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Ken…”
“It’s not.”
“Get it. I want to see.”
“It’s in my room.”
I point at the hallway. “Then go.”
She groans, huffing out the room and glaring at me the whole way.Ah, there’s the girl I know.
Megan holds her hands out. “I didn’t know anything about that until now. I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“It’s probably a detention,” I say, making my way closer to the stove. “Kennedy has this habit of skipping Ms. Falconbury’s class, and Ms. Falconbury has a habit of handing out detentions.”
“Well, she can’t skip class.”
“No, she cannot.”
I stop next to Megan and inspect her enchiladas. “And you said you could cook … what did you say? Decently?”
“Yeah.”
“This looks great, Megan.”
She beams. “Thanks. I didn’t want to oversell my abilities. I try really hard, and I’m pretty good with recipes. But what if I make something, and you hate it, and I’ve led you to believe I’m amazing? That would suck.”
“Or maybe you need to stop worrying about what people think of you and be confident in who you are.”
I didn’t mean it as a throwback to our conversation last night, but it does apply. And she applies it.
