“No,” she cried out, jumping to her feet. “We are not sitting around here for another weekend while you feel sorry for yourself. If you don’t want Liam, that’s fine, but you won’t hide away forever.”
“What does this have to do with Liam?”
“Everything! You’re hiding from him and everyone else. What you need is to get out and live again.”
“What I need is a night inside.”
“Ugh, you are not going to sit here and mope.” Grabbing me by the hand, she tugged me to my feet. “I won’t allow it. I’m so sick of seeing you in your pajamas.”
“Well, too bad! If I want to wear pajamas all day, I will. If I want to get fat eating popcorn and candy, I’ll do that, too!”
“Not on my watch,” she snapped, dragging me into my bedroom.
Anger surged through me as I tried and failed to tug my hand from her grip. “Cheyenne! Knock it off! I’m not going out!”
“Yes, you are! I will knock you out and drag you along behind me if I have to!”
“You…will…not!” I said as I struggled to get away from her.
When it didn’t work, I kicked my foot up, bracing against the doorframe, refusing to let her drag me another foot.
“I’m just as stubborn as you!” she shouted, putting her own foot on the inside of the doorframe.
We both tugged on one another, each of us refusing to give in. Indian burns skated up my wrist as we both continued on with an iron will. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, hoping that would make her stop.
She finally released me at the same time I yanked one last time. I went flying backward, my feet stumbling over each other until I was on my back with my legs in the air. Cheyenne let out a yelp as she fell against my closet door and then broke it off the hinges.
Screaming, she quickly covered her head just before it collapsed on top of her.
I untwisted my body, groaning as I rolled over and rubbed my back where it connected with the floor. Cheyenne wasn’t in much better shape.
Shoving the door away from her, I gasped when I saw a red mark on her nose and the tears in her eyes.
“Ow,” she cried, holding her face.
I tried to look upset on her behalf, but the second I did, my face twisted into something ugly and laughter bubbled up in my chest. An unladylike snort filled the silence as she glared hard at me.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing.” I pinched my lips together, but there was nothing for it. She’d been beaten up by a door.
Scrambling to my feet, I cried out as my back twinged. I hobbled over to her, acting like a woman three times my age as I held out my hand to help her to her feet.
“You’re evil,” she hissed. “I was only trying to help you!”
“I know?—”
“I’ve been watching you drown for weeks, and the one time I insist on helping you, this is what I get for it!” she motioned to her nose.
“Cheyenne—”
“You’re mean!” She jabbed a finger in my direction, then broke outin tears when the pain in her face became too much. “I was only trying to help you.”
“I know. I’m horrible. A terrible friend.”
“You are,” she cried, her words barely audible.
“And I never should have refused to go out. You were only trying to help.”
