Page 36 of You Saw the Best In Me

I’m not a kid anymore, and despite the circumstances, I’ve made a life for myself everywhere I’ve lived.

I’m strong, resilient, and fiercely independent.

I need someone to see the sides of me that I built, and I know exactly where to go.

Hi Juliette, can we meet for lunch?

Of course!! Let’s meet in an hour. I’ll send you an address.

Okay, babes, see you soon.

Juliette is the only person who’s ever made me feel safe and my only friend right now. I need her, and I’m thankful she can hang out today.

I force myself out of bed, and do my make up to look better than I feel. My new hair came out incredibly, and I curl it to show off a bit.

I wear jeans and a low-cut shirt, keeping it casual and feeling comfortable in my body.

Once satisfied with my look, I start my car and head to the restaurant Juliette sent me.

I don’t plan to divulge my current struggles with my neighbor or Asher. I just want to enjoy an afternoon with someone who makes me happy.

I get to the restaurant a few minutes early, and it looks like an average mom-and-pop diner.

Juliette pulls up beside me and honks her horn, smiling from ear to ear.

“Hi!” I scream, pulling her in for a hug.

“Karina, it’s so good to see you. Oh my gosh. Let’s go inside!” Juliette grabs me by the arm, already chatting away about everything and anything.

We order drinks and lunch as I listen to her Rose Hills updates for me.

Seeing her so happy is incredible, and it radiates off of her.

“Tell me about Forest Falls! I want to hear everything!” she says, and I aim to trim as much of the story as I can.

“Well, I have a broody son of a bitch for a neighbor,” I start, and so much for being lowkey.

Juliette’s eyes widen, and she smirks at me.

“So, how many times have you slept with him?”

She has a devilish way of knowing precisely what I’m hiding.

“Oh, my god, Juliette!” I whisper, and she reminds me I did the same thing to her.

I smile at the memory, missing the roommate days with her so much.

I explain our dirty history, including the whole prank war situation, which she finds hysterical.

“What’s his name?” she asks, her curiosity taking over.

“Maverick. He’s a total prick,” I say, pausing as the waitress brings our meals.

I order a double cheeseburger with extra fries, ready to load on carbs.

Juliette orders her usual chicken Caesar salad, which she got me into when we lived together.

It’s her favorite meal, and she orders it shamelessly.