"I—" This girl notices everything. "I was just a little overwhelmed. Nothing you need to worry about, okay?"
"Okay." She stares down at her lap and twiddles her fingers. "I thought that maybe you were mad that Auntie Jade was at our house."
"No, no, not at all. Did you enjoy seeing her again? It looked like you did."
"Yeah. I missed her."
"Are you excited to go to the movies with her this weekend?"
"Yeah!" She's beaming, and her energy shifts instantly, lifting my spirits slightly.
"Good. Are you going to share your popcorn with me?"
She giggles. "Nope."
I told Jade she could take Clover to the movies, but that I was going with them. I'm still learning to trust her, so we're taking baby steps toward a future that hopefully all three of us will be satisfied with.
The three of us... I used to use that phrase to describe Clover, Daisy, and myself. "The four of us" has always been Raina, Winnie, Clover, and me. A couple of days ago, I pictured the new "the three of us" to be Clover, me, and Blake. But that dream went up in purple smoke about an hour ago, and I don't know how or if I'll ever be able to get it back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
B
"Want to watch a movie?" Fia asks from the living room.
“No. I want to go clubbing!”
"Damn, the talk really was that bad then?"
I peek my head out of the kitchen and hold up my drink, rattling the ice. “What do you think?”
“So what kind of vibe are we going for tonight? Are we celebrating freedom or drowning our feelings?”
I stop and think for a moment. “Both, maybe?”
“I just need to know so I can pick out the right outfit to wear.”
“Would it make a difference?”
“Of course. Are we trying to get laid or break hearts?”
I lean against the doorway and hit my head a little too hard on the wooden frame, my drink already making my brain fuzzy. “Ow,” I groan out. Rubbing the spot that was hit. “Those sound like the same outfit to me.”
Fia makes her way over to me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“What are you doing?”
“Hugging you.”
“No shit. Why?”
“You look like you need one.”
Despite my instinct to recoil from the affection, I melt into her embrace. Fia’s always had that effect on me. “I don’t need a hug,” I lie. “I need loud music and sweaty bodies.”
"Forgive me for trying to check in on my friend," she says as she lets me go, planting a light kiss on my bare shoulder.
Friend. I laugh to myself.
