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“Oh hey.” Her gaze barely flicks to mine as she reaches into the familiar red can—going traditional, I guess—and pulls out a short stack of chips. “I always thought they looked like duck lips.”
“They do.” I shut the door and lean against it, mentally thumbing through the various things I planned on discussing with her. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She hits the space bar on her keyboard to stop whatever she was watching and shuts the laptop, setting it beside her on the couch. “It’s been a while, huh?”
That is a pointless question I don’t bother answering because we both know that, yeah, it’s definitely been a while.
I settle into the overstuffed chair across from the couch, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath before I launch into what I want to say. “I feel bad about what happened when we had that…argument.”
She’s frowning at me, her brows drawing together as if she has no idea what I’m talking about. “What argument?”
“When we got mad at each other over—the guys. About Knox and Bryan and everything. What I said to you.” I wave a hand, not wanting to dismiss it exactly, but, wow, what a dumb subject to argue over.
Isn’t that normal, though? A lot of big fights start over petty arguments.
Though my worry for her about her drinking isn’t dumb. And I guess her worry about me getting taken advantage of isn’t dumb either.
“Oh. I’m not still mad about that, I hope you know.”
I blink at her. “You’re not?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not even seeing Derek anymore. I blew him off about…oh, a month ago.”
Right after we argued and I started to stay away from her because I thought she was avoiding me.
“And I’m not going out as much,” she admits. “Or if I am out, I don’t drink like I used to. Maybe you were right.”
The relief that floods me is almost overwhelming.
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“I thoughtyouwere mad,” she throws back at me. When I gape at her, she continues, “About Knox and all that. I know you two are pretty hot and heavy.”
“How do you know?” I haven’t really told her much, but maybe it’s obvious because I’m never here.”
“First of all, I feel like my roommate disappeared.” Her smile is kind, so at least she doesn’t seem angry about that little fact. “Second, I’ve been hanging out with Blair more. She told me you two were seeing each other a lot.”
“Wait, did Knox tell her?” I’m panicking, but not in a bad way. His friends all know we’re hanging out, but I have no clue if he’s defined what we’re doing to anyone yet.
“Of course not. He’s not going to confess to his little sister that he’s banging the hottie.” She grins at me and I roll my eyes, only faintly embarrassed. “But she has eyes, and so do I. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”
“Oh.” I drop my gaze to my lap, trying to figure out what direction to take this conversation next, when Natalie keeps talking.
“I miss you. I figured you were mad at me and that’s why you were staying away. I said some shitty things, and I’m sorry. I guess I was just—jealous of you and Knox.”
“I’m sorry too,” I admit, my voice quiet. “And I’m glad you’re not drinking as much. I wasn’t avoiding you, just so you know.”
Well, maybe a little bit.
“I figured you were with Knox, and I get it. I’d want to stay with that gorgeous man all the time too.” I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. “But I wasn’t sure what I did that made you stay away from me. I even talked to Leon about it.”
“He told me.” The next words burst out of me as if I’ve been keeping a secret for years. “I didn’t like what you said, Nat. About me being in a controlling relationship. It hurt my feelings and that’s partially why I kept my distance. Plus, I truly believed you were pissed at me for whatIsaid.”
“What? No.” She shakes her head, an incredulous look on her face. “Are you telling me we just went through the classic miscommunication trope? We let this drag on when we could’ve cleared everything up with a conversation a few weeks ago?”
“I guess so.” I feel really dumb.
But I’m also relieved. I don’t like thinking one of my best friends is so mad at me she refuses to talk to me. That was almost too much to bear.
