Kai: Besides, it’s a digital download, it’s on my console.
Sammie: I’ll tell you what Attie said he wants for Christmas
Sammie: I know he doesn’t say he wants things around you because you always buy them
Kai: …
Kai: Deal.
Kai: If either of you fuck this up for me I’ll leak the group chat.
Sammie: There’s nothing incriminating in the group chat?
Kai: What about the night you ranked each and every player on the Cats roster by how fuckable they were, with commentary from their beloved athletic trainer?
Sammie: …
Sammie: Deal
Sammie hesitated in the flickering lights of the quiet hall, scuffing the toe of her boot against the thin, faded green carpet. She shifted the grocery bag of snacks from one hand to the other, then back. Her backpack, stuffed full with Kai’s Xbox, weighed heavy on her shoulders.
Just knock on the fucking door. Knock, say sorry, hold up the goodie bag of peace offerings, and hope for the best.
Raising a fist, Sammie got one solid rap against the door in before it swung open wide. Ivy stood before her, one brow quirked up, lips pinched as though she were… trying not to laugh?
“Hi.” Sammie stood before her friend, the apology she’d rehearsed a thousand times slipping from her mind like smoke. Ivy cocked her head to the side, one hand on her hip. She looked as though she hadn’t been expecting anyone, which made sense considering Sammie had shown up with zero notice. Figured she had a better chance that way, if she didn’t give Ivy time to bolt.
“You’ve been standing there for three minutes.” Ivy pushed wispy strands of dark hair back from her face, tucking them back into the messy bun piled on top of her head.
Sammie flushed. “You knew?”
A laugh escaped Ivy, small and breathy, but still a laugh. A flicker of hope lit in Sammie’s chest. Ivy pointed to the side of the door, where a doorbell camera had been mounted.
“Oh.” Sammie flushedharder. “That’s new.”
Ivy rolled her eyes and sighed. “One too many porch pirates. I hooked it up last week.” A pause, an awkward one, as she clearly weighed her options. Let Sammie in and hear her out, or slam the door in her face?
Sammie was sure her friend would go with the latter option and was already bracing herself for the inevitable disappointment when Ivy swung the door open wider and gestured an arm toward her apartment. “Come on,” was all she said before turning away, heading toward her tiny kitchen.
For a moment, Sammie wanted to run. There was still time to get away, to feign an excuse so she would have more time to come up with a way to fix the rift between them. Because suddenly her small offerings seemed woefully inadequate when compared to the loss of Ivy’s friendship.
But Sammie never had liked putting things off. Sitting in the bad feelings, waiting around for some magical solution to appear on a wish. It never truly helped. It would just give her more time to dwell on all the ways she’d screwed up, and would make any attempt at an apology that much scarier.
Sammie followed Ivy into the apartment.
She always liked coming to Ivy’s place. There was coloreverywhere. No rhyme or reason to any of it, just bright swirls of the rainbow on every surface. A purple suede coach with an orange throw draped over the back, white pillows covered in crocheted flowers placed neatly at each end. Thrift storepaintings and prints lining the walls of the living room, trailing into the open kitchen. Instead of any sort of dining table, Ivy’s PC setup took up the majority of the room’s free space.
Sammie dropped the grocery bag onto the counter and began to pull out the snacks, stuffing them into Ivy’s bubblegum pink cabinets. She’d asked once if Ivy was technicallyallowedto change the space this much, considering shewasjust renting. Ivy had shrugged and said she wasn’t a fan of asking permission, it could all be painted back if she eventually left.
“What’s in the backpack?”
Ivy leaned back against the counter, watching Sammie stall by organizing the snacks for the third time. She crossed her arms, chin tilted up as she stared with narrowed eyes.
Sammie coughed, clearing her throat of, well, nothing. “It’s a surprise.” She gave up on pretending she had anything else to do with her hands, letting them fall to the side as she turned toward Ivy. “I’ll only give it to you if you let me apologize.”
Ivy huffed out a laugh. “Apologize away, I won’t stop you.” The rest was left unsaid.But I don’t have to forgive you.
Two deep breaths, one to settle Sammie’s nerves, one to bolster her courage. “I’ve been a bad friend. I made things weird when I didn’t need to. I’ve wanted to tell you everything that’s been going on with me… with Kieran, but I didn’t because I’d twisted it all up in my head. I never should have shut you out, it wasn’t fair of me and I wish I could take it back.” The words tumbled out of her, a dam unleashing, and Sammie felt her fear slipping away on the current with every truth she let spill out.
