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“Wait, who in the world said anything about masturbating?” Whitney asked.
“You never done it? Girl, y’all missin’ out. Here, I’ll show you how—”
“No!” Whitney and I said in unison.
“Fine. But y’all two are the ones who’re too wound up. Maybe y’all could use some relaxation,” Lizzie said.
“Which is what I’m getting with having my back massaged with these jets,” I said.
“Okay, can I just say something?” Whitney asked.
“You ready to try my idea?” Lizzie asked.
“Never. But Katie, I’m so glad you didn’t marry that douchebag,” Whitney said.
“That, too. The way you handed it to him in front of that crowd last night was awesome. Girl, I was so proud, I was cryin’,” Lizzie said.
“You don’t cry, but thanks for the sentiment,” I said.
“Now, you can let your heart heal and get on with your life,” Whitney said. “Are you going to stay here? Or come back to New York?”
“I think I’m going to stay here. I mean, I took the bar exam here, and my family’s here. I don’t see myself going back to the city.”
“You were all about that city life in high school,” Lizzie said. “Not what it’s cracked up to be?”
“More along the lines of I’ve got too many memories there with Michael, and I’m not sure if I could heal going back to New York,” I said.
“Well, if you ever want to come visit, you know you’re always welcome to stay with me,” Whitney said.
“I’m gonna miss you, and the same applies. Once I can get on my knees and beg my landlord for my apartment back, you’ll have a place to crash, too,” I said.
“Or you could get on your knees and—”
“Lizzie. Seriously?” Whitney asked. “The last thing Katie needs to be doing right now is getting on her knees for any man. If anything, they need to drop to their knees and show her why they deserve to stay.”
“Oh, shit! Some freak action goin’ on over here. Who knew little Whit-Whit liked her some oral?” Lizzie asked.
“Or I could simply take the time to heal and move on before jumping into anything else. You know, what regular people do?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I saw you getting close to those two brothers this morning,” Whitney said.
“Caleb and Dylan? Hardly. I’ve known them ever since I was a little girl. We all grew up next to each other,” I said.
“Yep. They were there through everythin’. Her daddy runnin’ out. High school. Her eighteenth birthday,” Lizzie said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“What happened on her eighteenth birthday?” Whitney asked.
“Her and Dylan sucked face, that’s what happened,” Lizzie said.
“Oh, was that the one in the bespoke suit?” Whitney asked.
“The fuck is a ‘bee-spoked’ suit?” Lizzie asked.
“A ‘bespoke suit’ is a suit that is made from scratch and tailored to the body of the person purchasing it,” I said. “And yes, Dylan’s the one in the nice suit.”
“Ya know what I think of that? I think gettin’ over someone requires you gettin’ under someone else,” Lizzie said.
