Quinn juts out her hand in front of my mom. “Hi,” she says with a smile. “You must be Mrs. Combs. I’m Quinn, Ivy’s roommate and friend.”
Friend.I don’t think Quinn would say it if it wasn’t still true, and I wonder how much longer things can go on this way before I lose the privilege. I definitely haven’t been acting like a friend.
If my mom’s caught off guard by Quinn’s assertiveness, she doesn’t show it. “It’s nice to finally meet one of Ivy’s friends,” she says, shaking Quinn’s hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet some of Ivy’s family.” Knowing Quinn, she doesn’t mean it as a dig, but my mom’s mouth adopts a sour lilt, and I suspect she must be feeling a little bit guilty thatnone of them ever make the effort to come see me. “How long are you visiting for?”
“I leave tomorrow morning.”
Quinn nods, and then her gaze swings my way. “Hi.”
I swallow. Shift in my seat, feeling awkward. “Um, hey.”
“It’s good to see you out,” she says, her eyes darting to my mom like she’s unsure of how much she can say.
I nod. “Thanks. It’s good to be out.”
“Angela!” calls the guy working behind the counter, signaling that our order is ready. My mom excuses herself to retrieve our food, leaving Quinn and I alone.
Quinn nods toward Remy. “Well, I should?—”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, now that my mom’s no longer within hearing distance. “I’ve—I’ve been awful to you. I’ve been ignoring you. That’s why my mom’s here. I was ignoring her, too.”
Quinn tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, considering my apology before offering a small nod of understanding. “I’m not a super touchy-feely person,” she says, “but it kind of hurt when you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.”
My shoulders slump. I feel like the worst friend in the world. “I’m sorry.”
“I was mostly worriedforyou, Ivy. I didn’t know what to do. How to help.” I press my lips together, saying nothing. There’s no way to justify my behavior. I don’t deserve to justify it. “Look,” she glances toward her boyfriend, “Remy’s almost at the counter, so I need to get back, but when you feel like hanging out again, let me know, okay?”
I hardly allow myself to believe that her words are genuine, but I nod anyway. “Okay. I will.”
“Oh, and Wes was seriously worried about you too, just so you know,” she says, and the mention of Wes has my stomach twisting painfully. Before I can formulate a response, my momreturns with our food. “Well, I should get back in line.” She smiles at my mom. “It was great meeting you, Mrs. Combs.”
“You too, Quinn.” As soon as Quinn is out of earshot, my mom leans forward. “She seems sweet. It’s a shame she has all those tattoos.”
I don’t comment. Just stare down at my sandwich, my appetite gone. I feel awful for ignoring Quinn—for pushing away her attempts to help me—but I just didn’t have energy to give to our friendship.
Cut yourself some slack. You’re trying to heal.
I am, and maybe eventually I’ll have what it takes to mend things. I just hope she’s still open to it when that happens. I wouldn’t blame her for giving up, though. I wouldn’t blame her at all.
At my mom’s urging, I manage to eat half of my sandwich. I’m exhausted as soon as we’re done, from the food and the socialization and the overstimulation of being in a public setting.
“You look tired,” Mom says, noticing me stifle a yawn. “Why don’t you nap in my hotel room?”
I don’t have the energy to do anything but nod.
The second my head hits the plush, hotel pillow, I’m dead to the world. I sleep for a while. I don’t dream. But when my eyes blink open, there’s no more sunlight shining through the sheer curtains. It’s dark outside the window, and I realize I must have been out for hours.
Rubbing at my eyes, I roll over with a groan, only to find my mom perched in the armchair in the corner, scrolling through her phone. She looks up when she feels my stare. “You’re awake.”
I yawn and push up to a seated position, my back against the headboard. “How long did I sleep for?”
“Four hours.”
My eyes widen. “Crap, I’m s-sorry,” I stutter out, worried she’s angry. Worried she’s going to admonish me for wasting my life on an unnecessary nap in the middle of the day. “You could have woken me up.”
“It’s fine, Ivy.”
