“But it’s my?—”
“I know it’s yours,” She cuts in. “God, you are such an only child.”
I huff out a reluctant laugh.
Za’s always like this.
Soft. Forgiving. Patient in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been.
“Listen,” she continues. “I know that him being in our lives is an inconvenience. But it’ll get better. I swear. Just ease up a bit. And I swear I’ll talk to him too whenever he decides to answer the phone. But for now, just let the beef go.”
I sigh.
If only she knew how far I took ‘letting the beef go’ last night. Maybe one day I’ll tell her.
When I’m brave enough.
Someday.
But, for now, she’s happy. So I’ll just keep it that way.
“Fine,” I raise my hands in surrender. “I’ll let it go. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll even apologize for cussing him out.”
She raises her eyebrows.
Yeah, bet you didn’t see that one coming.
It’s easy to make a promise when you’ve already ensured the chances of it happening are zero to none, not after what I said in that text.
He may never want to see me again.
“Well, that’s very mature of you, Francine,” She snaps her fingers. “But don’t think I forgot. Where were you? With one of the roster boys playing make-up?”
My brain screeches.
Fuck! Why didn’t I think of that?
I slap on a grin.
“You got me! Haha.”
She lifts a brow. “Which one?”
“Huh?” ??
“Roster boys,” she clarifies. “Which one are you seeing again?”
I wave my hand. “Confidential.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” she says. “Keep your secrets. But if you end up crying over this mystery man, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”
“I’m not gonna cry,” I mutter, more to myself than her.
“Uh-huh. Anyway,” she stretches, smirking. “You free today?”
I blink. “Why?”
