Emma
“‘Let’sgo to a bar where nobody will know us,’ she said.” I pause. “‘It’ll be fun,’ she said. ‘Idouble-dog dareyou,’ she said.” Believe me when I tell you that I say all of that with my snarkiest voice.
“Inever saidanythingabout fun,” Carley says with a grimace. “I know you too well to think any ofthatlast night was going to be fun.”
I’m sitting on our one and only stool at our tiny breakfast bar, glaring at my best friend while eating a bowl of generic extra-sugary cereal because I deserve it. With a sigh, I shove another spoonful of processed goodness into my mouth. “Myeah,” I say with my mouth full. After chewing fast so I can get the rest out, I add, “But you had to know I was going to crash and burn. And if that’s the case, why’d youmakeme do it?” I mean, she asserted the sacrosanct triple D.
“I already went over that. Twice.” She’s eating a yogurt and a piece of dry toast. Who does that? Who eats dry toast? “It had to be done. Your stars were aligned.”
I shake my head and shove another spoonful into my mouth, still glaring at her.Stupid horoscope.
“Say it again.”
Now she’s just being rude.
I shake my head again.
“Please?” she says way too sweetly. “One more time?”
“God.” I slam the spoon onto the counter. “This is it. The last time.”
Holding up three fingers like she was a scout—she wasn’t—she says, “I swear.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Fine.” I close my eyes and repeat the words that will haunt me for the rest of my life. This time I do it so fast, I don’t bother taking a breath between words. “Doyougenerateelectricitywithwaterthroughtheprocessofhydropower?Becausedam.”
She lowers her head. I can tell she’s doing her level best to hold in her laughter. “No, you said, ‘dammmmm.’ You really emphasized the last word.”
“Dammmmm.” I give her the evilest eye in my arsenal. “Better?”
Now she laughs… so hard some of her yogurt ends up on her workout top. Good. She deserves that.
“Witch,” I mutter. Sliding down from the stool, I set the bowl in the sink and run some water over it. “I’ll let you wash my bowl as payback.”
“No problem.” She’s still laughing and it’s annoying as heck.
“I’m glad I can provide you with so much joy.”
“Hey.” Carley reaches out and touches my arm. “Em. No.”
“I get it.” I do. I get that she can find amusement in my struggles.
“No.” She’s no longer laughing. No. Now she’s blocking my exit. “Emma. No,” Carley says, shaking her head. “I’m not laughingatyou.”
“You’re laughingwithme?” God, I hate that expression. “Because, if you haven’t noticed,I’mnot laughing.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just said that pickup line, turned, and ran.”
“I said it twice.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
It matters to me. “Sure.” I nod, then give her a fake smile. “I need to get in the shower. I start my job at the library today and I can’t be late.” Ineedthis job.
“Okay.” Her voice is soft. I can tell she’s worried I’m going to stay mad at her. She knows me––I tend to hang on to my anger for longer than is healthy. Just ask my sister. “But we’ll talk later, right?”
