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"You're such a stickler."
"You're the one who came up with the idea of taking turns. I don't give a damn. We can watch sci-fi every week. Anything except Battlestar Galactica."
My phone buzzes. I try to ignore it. It's difficult. I haven't heard a word from Miles since he left my apartment late enough it was technically Saturday morning.
It's been more than twenty-four hours.
I tap my fingers against my cell's screen. "It's not the show's fault everyone called you Starbuck in high school."
She watches my tapping and raises a brow. "You gonna check your phone?"
"It's probably nothing."
"Uh-huh." She shakes her head and moves to the kitchen. "Frosted Flakes or Cocoa Puffs?"
"Both."
Kara and I have a weekly routine. Sunday brunch. It's supposed to be for homework, but mostly we watch movies, eat cereal straight from the box, and drink medically unsound amounts of caffeine.
Last year, our weekly meetings were the only time I wasn't studying. I was so focused on that stupid MCAT. It was the only thing I paid attention to. It's why I let it slide when Rosie told me she was fine, even though that uneasy feeling in my gut screamed that she was lying.
My phone buzzes again.
I know it's Miles. He and Kara are the only two people who text me. But I don't want to be desperate to turn my phone over. I don't want him to have the power to leave me in knots.
My fingers curl around my phone. I want to read his reaction. I need to know what he's saying.
I unlock my cell.
Miles: Any soreness?
Meg: No. I'm good.
Miles: Only good?
Meg: Only good. I'm studying.
Sort of.
Kara plops next to me. She hands me a can of green tea and a bowl of puffed corn coated in sugar and cocoa powder. I pop open my can and take a long sip.
"Earth to Meg?" She taps my shoulder. "Is that who I think it is?"
"We're just talking."
"That is 100 percent grade-A bullshit." Her eyes are sincere. "You have any details to share?"
"I'm working on it."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I can handle it."
She stares me down like she's challenging me to tell the truth.
"If I can't, I'll talk to you," I say.
She plays with her t-shirt. "After what happened with Rosie, I don't want to see you hurting again."
