“I,” Willowdean continues. “At firstIdidn’t get what Millie saw in you.”
“Nope,” says Hannah. “That’s definitely awestatement. Cosigned.”
A deeply satisfied grin spreads across Willowdean’s face. “You’re kind of selfish and rude and, like, really not that funny. But then you started coming around more and... well, you ended up being sort of funny.”
Amanda holds her apple up like a gavel. “For the record, I think you’re pretty damn funny.”
“And smart,” adds Ellen. “And loyal,” she says.
“Well, there’s something you don’t have much experience with,” I say.
Ellen swallows hard. “You’re right. After Willowdean and I mended our fence, I was certainly not loyal.”
“You ditched me,” I tell her, my voice flat, because I can’t risk letting her know how awful that really made me feel.
She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. But gosh, Callie, you also gotta know that you haven’t always been the easiest person to be friends with. Hell, if anyone was gonna crack you, it would be Millie. So I’m sorry that I just ghosted on you after the pageant, but I’m also glad that I got a chance to get to know this new and improved version of you, too.”
“I get why you’re mad,” Willowdean says. “About Millie not telling you she was the one who recognized you on the security footage. You could say that I have a little bit of a temper, too. But would it have changed anything?”
“I might not have made that list,” I tell them. “With all the secrets. Or wasted so much time being pissed off at the Shamrocks—girls who were my friends.”
“Girls who let you carry that blame all alone,” says Ellen in a soft voice. “Listen, I don’t think there’s any use in pointing your anger in one direction or the other. The whole situation sucked, but it happened.”
My arms fall limp at my sides. I hadn’t realized that this whole time I was crossing them so tight over my chest.
Willowdean clears her throat. “And you gotta get over it. No use wasting a perfectly good friendship on yesterday’s history.”
“And Millie needs you.” Amanda tosses the core of her apple into the trash can from across the kitchen. “She didn’t get into camp at UT, and now she’s going back to Daisy Ranch. You get what a big deal that is, right?”
And that hits me right in the gut. I shake my head. “Oh my God. How could they not accept her? And she swore she wouldn’t go back to Daisy Ranch!”
Amanda nods. “Exactly. I tried talking some sense into her, but if you really care about Millie, maybe you should try, too.”
Ellen and Hannah stand up and join Amanda.
“Listen,” says Ellen, “if you ever want to—”
“I’m, like, super territorial,” Willowdean interjects,still sitting firmly in her seat. “Like the day we learned to share in elementary school? I was probably absent. But what Ellen is trying to say is that if you ever want to hang out...”
“We don’t mind having a third wheel,” Ellen finishes. “Or a fourth or a fifth or a sixth or whatever.”
I watch the four of them suspiciously. “Thanks for ringing my doorbell relentlessly.”
After they leave, I slide down the door and onto the floor, still wearing my mother’s apron. Shipley sniffs me, searching for scraps, before plopping down beside me, and I stroke her soft ears.
I can’t make my brain shut up. The dance team and whoever’s fault that it was that I was caught. Millie getting rejected by the broadcast journalism camp. Ellen. Willowdean. Hell, even Amanda and Hannah. All of it swirls around in my head and I can barely process any of it, so I do what I would do in any time of Shamrock crisis. I prioritize.
What is the one thing I can actually fix? I don’t know if there’s anything left to salvage with Sam and Melissa. And Millie... well, I know I need to go to her. I gotta make it right somehow. Not just because of me lashing out at her, but I can’t let her go back to Daisy Ranch. Not after the way she talked about all those summers there and how this would be the year everything changed. She was so damn positive and determined. There are a lot of people who could probably stand to be knocked down a few pegs, but Millie is not one of those people.
I push myself up off the floor and head to the kitchen to finish up dinner. After Keith and I eat, I set aside leftovers for Mama and Kyla.
As I’m sitting at the desk in my room with a pen in my hand and a pad of paper in front of me, Mama knocks on my already cracked-open door. “Not bad for your first try at my King Ranch casserole.”
I smile. “Keith said he couldn’t even tell the difference.”
She rolls her eyes. “His taste buds are about as refined as a hog’s.” She leans against the door and crosses her arms. “I really appreciate you picking up the slack tonight.”
I nod. “I didn’t mind.”
