“Fucking asshole,” I muttered, grabbing his plate with shaking hands and heading for the kitchen.
When I made it out to my truck, I was surprised to see Mel stillin the passenger seat. Legs propped on the dash, jaw tight, phone pressed to her ear. She wasn’t just talking.
She was arguing. And with every step I took, her voice got louder—stronger—like a woman who had reached her limit and was done taking shit from anyone.
“Figure it out. There has to be something you can do,” she says.
I open the car door and sat in the driver’s seat. She was too agitated even to notice I'm back in the car.
“How would I know my friend would go and get pregnant the same time I scheduled this months ago.”
Silence.
“Don’t be ridiculous. No one wants to go to Vegas when they are pregnant and can’t drink.”
She finally looks at me—acknowledges I exist—with a sharp roll of her eyes. I can’t tell if it’s meant for the person on the phone… or me.
“Blah blah blah. Ya got it. I’m fucked, thanks for nothing.”She hangs up without ceremony and tosses her phone into her purse like it personally betrayed her.
“This is why they say no good deed goes unpunished,” she mutters, dragging a hand down her face as she slumps back in the seat with a sigh that feels like it’s been trapped in her chest for years.
“Are we going?” Her head swivels toward me.
“Yeah… is everything alright?”
“Fine,” she snaps. “Just stuck with a trip by myself.”
“A trip. By yourself?”
She huffs a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Got two tickets to Vegas—a surprise for Abigail. But turns out I got the surprise. She’s pregnant. Can’t go. Can’t refund the tickets. So, I’m screwed. And it sucks because I could really use that money right now. Guess this is what it’s like to have money problems.”
“You mean your parents’ money?”
She shoots me a glare that could cut through glass.
“Why don’t you just go alone?” I ask, shrugging.
“By myself?”
“Yeah. Go. Have fun. It’s Vegas. You’ll find something to do. Men to chase.”
“First of all, I don’t chase men. And last time I checked, Vegas costs money. You know, to actually have fun.” She leans back again, hair twisting around her finger like she’s trying to distract herself from unraveling.
“Don’t your parents have a shit ton of money?”
“Yeah, but I can’t ask them.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mom and dad are going through something and she’s got enough on her plate. And I’d rather not ask my stepdad. He…” She falters, staring out the window like the silence can explain it better than she can.
“He makes you pay. One way or another. Nothing’s free in this life.”
“So ask your mom.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“She’s your mom. How hard can it be?”
