“Cool off?” He laughs. “She’s not mad, Fletcher; she’s disappointed. She’s hurt.”
“That’s worse, asshole.”
“I know.” He drops a hand on my shoulder. “I think you deserved it… just a little bit.”
I shake his hand off my shoulder, and he takes a deep breath.
“Give her a night. But you’ve got a lot of groveling to do for leaving your best friend, who absolutely hates parties like this, alone for another girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Jere. You’re a good friend, you know that?”
“Oh, I know.” His eyes narrow at me. “Because I never would’ve left one of my friendsaloneto go hang out with a girl.”
He slaps the side of my bicep with the back of his hand, and he walks into his room.
Before he shuts the door behind him, I say, “You would if you actually had a girl who was interested in you.”
The last thing I see is his middle finger as the door slams shut.
eight
Tate
November
Coffee?” Fletcher stands on the opposite side of the door, an apologetic look on his face.
I grab the iced coffee out of the drink carrier and then slam the door shut, stifling a laugh as I do.
“I deserved that.”
I open the door back up and motion for him to come in, “You actually deserve worse. You’re lucky I don’t kick you in the nuts.”
“I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t even think about it. I just went with it, and by the time I realized what an asshole I was, leaving you alone at the party, you were already gone.”
He shuts the door behind him, sets the drink carrier on the kitchen counter, and pulls out his hot coffee.
“Yeah, because I didn’t want to sit on the couch all night and look like a complete loser while my best friend was getting laid.”
“I was not getting laid. We didn’t even kiss,” he argues. “We just talked.”
“Somehow, that’s worse. Luckily, the best person I know saw how pathetic I looked and offered to drive me home.”
“Yeah, he made me feel quite bad about the whole thing.” He scratches the back of his head.
“Good.” I cross my arms. “I told him to make you feel super guilty the next time he saw you, so he did his job.”
I honestly don’t think I was mad at Fletcher for flirting with another girl last night. It’s not like he hasn’t had girlfriends in the years I’ve known him. It was just kind of a douchey thing to do when there was no one else for me to hang out with.
“Am I forgiven?” His eyes soften as he sets his cup down and steps toward me. “Please?”
“You’ll be forgiven after you order us some pizza and wings and watch my favorite movies with me all day.”
“Oh, actually, I have plans with Becca. I was just stopping by to bring you coffee.”
“Oh.”
Now, I might be a little mad. You mean to tell me you couldn’t even hang out with your best friend for a couple of hours after you ditched her last night?
