Molly pats my hand, her cold fingers sending a chill up my arm.
“And I’m pissed at my parents for keeping it from me.” The familiar flutter in my stomach confirms I’m still mad at them. “Anyway, I guess he realized I needed to be rescued, because he swooped in and took me for a McFlurry.”
“Falling for each other over McFlurries. How adorbs.” She slurps at her drink, pinning me with a probing stare.
“It’s not like that.” I take a gulp of my coffee to wash the lie from my tongue. “And adorbs? Who are you and what have you done with Molly Morrison?”
“Quit deflecting. We’ve known each other for a long time Savvyanna Bowen. I know when you’re lying, to me, or to yourself. You like that boy.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny it, but part of me doesn’t want to because she’s right. I do like him.
She steeples her hands together and leans forward over her drink. “Did you go to pound town?”
Not for lack of wanting to. “No. I saw you and…” I draw my finger around the edge of my saucer. “We came close to kissing. But when we were like…right there…I was reminded of my loyalty to you, his cheating past, and I heard you in my head saying ‘once a cheater, always a cheater.’ I jumped away.”
“I saw.” Her mouth forms a grin but her eyes say something else. “If you need permission to go for it with him”—she shrugs—“feel free.” She takes a huge bite of her donut, licking jelly from the corner of her mouth. “I don’t mind if you want to date him.”
“But…?”
There was definitely a “but” in her tone, and there’s reluctance in her expression.
“I just want you to be happy, Savvyanna. But I’m not sure Justin’s your guy.” She pauses and takes a drink. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he had a reason for cheating on me, I don’t know. Maybe he’s telling the truth that he didn’t cheat on me, or that term paper. Who knows? But it’s a pattern of behavior that isn’t ideal. A pattern I don’t want my friend getting tangled up in.”
She takes another bite of her donut. “That said.” She swallows. “I know how compelling those baby blues of his can be.” She falls quiet for a long beat, like she’s thinking things through in her head. “Ultimately, it’s your funeral. He cheated on me. He might cheat on you, he might not. As long as you go into it with your eyes open and your heart protected, that’s all I can really ask for. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
Her eyes darken, and she curls her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d walked into Applebee’s with her family and seen him kiss another girl. She said it was an image she wouldn’t ever be able to unsee, and I’m pretty sure her heart splintered into a million pieces at the sight.
That moment changed her. She became brasher, more confident, andI don’t give a flying fuck. She shut her emotions down hard and fast and went from the “relationship” type to the “never being tied down for as long as I live” type.
Justin Ashe shifted something in Molly’s world, and she’d never be the same because of it. She probably wants to grab me by the shoulders and demand to know what I’m thinking even entertaining the thought of kissing the enemy, but she doesn’t. She’s a good friend who doesn’t try to sway me from making my own decision, even when she very clearly thinks it’s a mistake.
She just tells it like she sees it, or, in this case, has lived it.
I didn’t expect to get her blessing to pursue something with Justin, but now that I have it, I want it to feel…different, lighter somehow. It’s not the overwhelming relief I expected it to be.
My life is a constant juxtaposition of opposites: strong and weak, on the defensive and on the offensive, sweet and sour. My moods can change like the weather. I find that if I just wait long enough my frame of mind will shift like the pendulum in a grandfather clock.
Maybe if I wait long enough the pendulum will swing away from Justin Ashe, and it won’t be an issue anymore.
A girl can dream, right?
* * *
I have no idea why I’m standing outside Justin’s childhood home right now, but I am.
Okay, I do know why. My official excuse is that I’m returning his mom’s dishes from Thursday, but the truth is that I really want to see him again.
I skipped the game last night in lieu of spending the night getting mani-pedis with Mom and talking through some stuff over a bottle of wine. I tried to avoid the conversation about my birth mom but avoidance didn’t go so well. We’d both ended up in tears, and I still don’t feel better about any of it, even after we’d talked a little. I’m not convinced Mom feels any better either.
Anyway, Justin may not have even noticed that I wasn’t there with Dad last night, but I feel guilty for not showing up. I want to apologize and tell him I’ll be there tonight instead. Dad gave me a game report, and it sounded like quite the barn burner. De la Peña got a shutout between the pipes, gloves were dropped, and I kinda want to go just to see if the bad vibes from last night are carried over—Dad says it’s near certain.
I love watching grown men beat the snot out of each other on the ice. I know they’re trying to move away from violence in the sport but damn, there’s something so hot about watching them throw down.
It would be so much easier to leave the empty dishes on the step and haul ass like I’m on fire, but as I stare at the red painted door, I’m drawn to stay.
I shift my weight from foot to foot, but I still can’t bring myself to ring the doorbell. I’d like to think I’m a strong, brave, and independent person. But standing in front of this door has my insides churning, and while I don’t need to pee, I might wet myself.
I’ve never been this nervous about talking to a boy before. Possibly it’s because Molly said she’s okay with me pursuing something with Justin, and I’m resigned to admitting that I do like him. Everyone does stupid shit in their lives. Stupidity doesn’t have an expiration date either, so there’s every chance he’ll end up doing something stupid in the future too.
