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I drizzle olive oil over the kale leaves, thin apple slices and avocado chunks, before adding some lemon juice, pine nuts and salt and pepper. It’s another recipe from Pinterest that I am obsessed with.
“I don’t know.”
I glance at the recipe again and see that I’ve missed out on the Dijon mustard. Do we even have that? Walking over to the fridge, I swing the door open and scan its contents and sure enough, there’s a jar of Dijon mustard that we haven’t yet opened.
Lex and I are total foodies and we love buying random things to make all those trendy recipes that I often save to my pins.
“It will be fun,” Hudson says in a pleading voice. “Please.”
Sighing, I feel my inner resistance crashing down and caving into Hudson’s demands once again. For some reason, I don’t think I can tell him no. “Okay, sure.”
“We’re leaving on Saturday and planning on coming back on Friday night,” he says.
“Okay, cool.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Ever since the night before when I almost overdosed, things between Hudson and I have awkwardly shifted. I remember him shouting at me, grabbing my arms and forcing me to stare into those angry green eyes. I shiver at the thought of him so furious.
Lex looks up at me, her eyebrows arched curiously into that look she gives me when she knows something is up. It’s the best-friend-spidey-senses. Well, at least that’s how she defines it.
“Was that him?” she asks.
I open the jar of Dijon mustard and add one tablespoon of the stuff to the salad. “Him who?”
I catch her rolling her eyes. “Hudson? You know that hottie of yours?”
“It was him. He wants me to spend spring break with him,” I tell her, as I grab the wooden salad forks and toss the salad together.
“Ooh, romantic,” she whispers as she switches on the Netflix. “Wanna watch The Witcher? We never finished the last three episodes.”
“Sure. And not romantic at all,” I say. “We’re going with other people from the frat and sororities.”
If there’s any group of people I dislike with a passion it’s the frat fuckboys and sorority bitches. They’re just rich, pretentious idiots looking for an excuse to bully anyone.
And I knew them well, I spent my freshman year as one of their designated servants, cleaning shit off the pearly marble floors with a cheap toothbrush until Lex and I became as thick as thieves and decided to ditch the enemy.
“Oh crap. And you said yes?”
“Yeah, he said please.” I open the oven and slip on my thick oven gloves to get the steaming Pita bread from inside.
“You don’t have to say yes even if they fucking grovel,” Lex tells me, sharing her amazing wisdom with me. “You can leave them hanging too, you know.”
“Will you come?” I ask her as I take the tray of pita and the bowl of salad over to the small table in front of the couch. “I won’t feel alone if you do.”
“Uh, I kind of have plans for Spring break and was going to ask you. We’re heading over to Staten Island for the week.”
I move over to the fridge again and grab two cans of iced cokes for us, before heading back to the couch. “We?”
“Remember, Kyle?” She barely says his name, but I hear it.
“Yes,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her. “The guy you dumped because he wanted to date?”
“Yes,” she mutters. “He asked me out again and I can’t deny that he has an amazing dick. It was a hard choice to let him go the first time and since I’m not getting any, I just decided that I’d go with him and see how things go from there.”
I can’t stop myself from cracking up. The fact that she was going back to someone, I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to rub it in. “Lex Carmichael, are you going to admit that you truly like someone for the first time in like what? A thousand years?”
