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“No,” I shook my head. “Nothing special.”
“I know something you don’t know,” she sing-songed in a very off-key pitch. “Trace—”
“SHUT UP, AVERY!” Trace yelled from the living room. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL COME INTO THAT BATHROOM, AND SEE YOUR GOODS IF YOU DON’T STOP TALKING!”
Avery giggled. “Trace wants to see my goods.”
I looked between my best friend and the closed door. What the hell was going on?
“What do you know that I don’t?” I asked her.
She opened her mouth but Trace came busting into the bathroom. “She knows nothing! Nothing! Right, Avery?”
She looked up at Trace with bleary eyes. “Oh, right. It’s a surprise.”
He smacked his face with the palm of his hands. “Never again,” he grumbled under his breath. “Don’t say anything,” he pointed a finger at her and then turned to me, “and don’t you dare try to get it out of her.”
I couldn’t help laughing. I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine.”
He looked between the two of us. “Don’t make me find a roll—or six—of duct tape.”
Avery mimed zipping her lips and giggled.
Trace sighed and ran his fingers through his hair so that it stuck up in random directions. Shaking his head, he left the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
I was tempted to try and pry the information out of Avery, but since I figured Trace was listening closely, I decided not too. It wasn’t worth it.
I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a washcloth. I wet it and added some mango scented body wash.
“Here,” I handed it to her. “I’m not scrubbing you down but you really need to get the dirt off of you.”
“Some best friend you are,” she took the cloth from me. Her eyes were looking a little less glazed and I breathed a sigh of relief.
The door opened a crack again and Trace’s tan arm poked through. In his hand was a loose gray t-shirt.
“I thought this would be more comfortable than her dress,” he mumbled.
I stood and took it from him.
“Thanks,” I said as he closed the door once more.
“I’m so sleepy,” Avery muttered. “And lonely. I’m really lonely, Livie.”
I sat on the bathroom floor and eyed her. “Why are you lonely?”
I drew my legs up and rested my arms on my knees as I waited for her answer.
“I miss Luca,” she leaned back in the tub, staring at the ceiling.
“Then why don’t you tell him that?”
“Because, I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve anyone.”
“Avery, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course you deserve him.” In my opinion, Avery and Luca were perfect for each other. He was the first guy that ever seemed to be able to handle her. Our freshman year of college, she’d had a different guy in her bed every night—the library had been my best friend at that time.
“No, I don’t,” she bit down on her lip and—oh my gosh, were those tears in her eyes? Avery never cried. “I’m ruined.”
I had never heard her say anything like that before. Maybe all the alcohol in her system was giving her loose lips.
