“Of course not.” Aspen hops on my bed, bouncing twice.
“This wasn’t necessary.” I grab the black Styrofoam container Marissa hands me but don’t open it. Once I taste the caramel goodness of the Tahiti French toast – a girls’ brunch staple – they’ll be able to talk me into whatever they want. Caramel, bananas, chocolate, all over a stack of French toast turns me into a softy.
“Don’t be silly.” Marissa takes a seat on the floor after she passes out the last container. She pops her lid, takes a larger whiff of the breakfast goodness, and sighs. “We can go to the thrift store anytime. This is our day to make our friend feel better.”
“Thanks, guys, but it’s okay. I don’t expect you to pick sides between Grant and me.” I take the high road, but inside I scream, “Pick me! Pick me!”
Aspen waves her hand in my direction. “Nonsense. Like we have to decide. It’s you all the way. Grant’s a moron.”
I laugh a little. The first time I have in days. I’ve never had close girlfriends, but being accepted into their group won’t be bad. It’s not like they given me much of a choice anyway.
“Do you know I had to sell my car when I moved into Aspen’s old apartment? I found out it was because Grant wanted the second space available for him. He doesn’t even own a car!” Marissa rolls her eyes and takes a bite of food. “Ryland still won’t let me buy a replacement because Grant might need the spot one day.”
Aspen laughs while chewing and I try not to choke.
“It’s not funny, Aspen.”
She sticks her hand out in front of her and swallows. “Are you sure it’s not because Ry doesn’t trust your driving?”
“I’m a great driver.”
“He must have a reason,” Amanda joins the conversation. “Remember that time you backed into the cute guy after brunch one Sunday?”
Marissa’s mouth falls open in exaggerated outrage. “He backed into me.”
“That is not the way I remember it.” Amanda shakes her head but Marissa only laughs it off.
“Ladies, focus.” Aspen claps to get everyone’s attention. “This is about Grant’s suckiness. We can share survivor stories with Marissa’s driving later. Today we’re here as Clare’s best friends to bash Grant.”
Simone pulls down her cute bright pink parka getting serious like she’s walking into a courtroom to present evidence. “I heard he once killed someone because they went back on a deal.”
“That was in Dragons Reborn, Simone.” Marissa tosses a wadded-up napkin in her direction, but it only makes it about halfway across the floor and then lands on my carpet.
“It counts!” she counters and then pauses deep in thought. “Plus he’s always stealing food.”
A resounding chorus of yeses fills my room.
“One day that boy will grab food off the wrong plate and someone will stab him with a fork.”
“Come on, Aspen. It’s gonna be me,” Marissa declares, jabbing her fork in a stabbing motion at the air.
I laugh. They’ve seen Grant’s tendency to steal food, but Marissa’s wrong. If anyone will stab him one day, it will be me.
My smile slips away as I remember I won’t be the one to take out one of Grant’s fingers because I won’t see Grant again. It’s probably for the best. I imagine the judge wouldn’t see it as food self-defense.
“You know what we need to do?” Aspen asks, excitedly filling the silence in the room. “Go to a spa.”
Marissa laughs. “Okay, Ms. Random. Let’s grab a cab.”
“I don’t mean today. Next weekend. I know a great place.”
“That’s one I’m definitely going to skip out on, sorry. We’re down a roommate and my budget does not have those kinds of dollars.” I don’t even know what you do at a spa but I can’t afford it.
“No, seriously it will be great,” Aspen carries on like she didn’t even hear my refusal. “In Arizona.”
Yeah. No way I’m going to a spa in Arizona. “Have you seen my red hair and pasty skin tone?”
Aspen scoffs not giving my concern any time of day. “They have big umbrellas.”
