Three jaws drop. Vee looks to both Courtney and Deandra before speaking. “Gret, what are you talking about?”
So I spill. All of it.
Well,almostall of it.
Thirty minutes later, their glasses are topped off, and they have the deets on everything from Josh’s tropical escape to living in the fifth wheel, to Zach’s parents’ surprise visit and their golf cart catastrophe.
I just may have skirted the part about me and Zach.
Yeah, I’ve definitely left out the parts about daily kissing practice.
And hand jobs.
So, I suck as a storyteller because those are the best parts.
“Greta…” Courtney narrows her gaze at me. Every student at Broussard Middle is terrified of that look. “Why are you blushing?”
“Yeah,” Deandra says, nodding. “Youareblushing.”
“Youlikehim,” Vee blurts.
“I—”
But, shit, what am I going to do? Deny it? A) These are my friends. Yes, I might have let our friendship lapse for the last six months, but they are here, so they still value my friendship. And B) Even if I deny it, who am I kidding? These are middle school teachers. Their bullshit detectors could be outsourced by the CIA.
“Okay, fine. Yes. I like him,” I admit, and it’s a good thing too because I feel so much heat radiating from my face, it must be a radioactive shade of magenta right now.
And I immediately have to roll my eyes because they go nuts.
“Ooooh!”
“Yeah, girl.”
“Spill, sister.”
So then I spend another thirty minutes telling them about Zach. About his sweetness. And his humor. And his fucking amazing brain that has helped us land on our feet. And all the ways he looks out for me.
“Girl, you in love,” Deandra announces, stirring her cinnamon stick in the dregs of her margarita.
“Mmm hmm.”Courtney hums her agreement.
“Is it just me,” Vee starts, looking between our other two friends, “or does she look happier than she ever did with Josh?”
And then I go radioactive again because the three of them just one-up each other.
“Happier than a teacher on a snow day,” Courtney says.
“Happier than a dog on Instagram,” Deandra says.
Vee nods. “Happier than—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” I shoot to my feet. “Who wants another margarita?”
“Not me. I’m driving back to Broussard and two is my limit.” Courtney peeks at her watch. “In fact, Keith is gonna wonder what happened to me if I don’t get home soon.”
And just like that, my teacher-friend reunion is wrapping up.
Except, maybe I shouldn’t call it myteacher-friend reunion.
