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“Yeah, we did,” I agreed, wishing I could talk about our shared past without feeling the loss that was smack dab in the middle of it all.
“So, how you been? I haven’t seen you since…” Kyle’s voice trailed off, clearly not sure how to address the uncomfortable topic.
“Since Dad’s funeral,” I filled in for him.
“Yeah, since then.” Kyle gave me a sad smile.
“If the two of you are going to play catch up, close the door, Kyle. I’m not paying to cool down the outside,” Mom scolded, and Kyle gave her a sheepish smile before closing the door behind him.
“Let me take those out to the yard, Mrs. Galloway.” Kyle went to take the box from my mother’s arms, but she stopped him.
“I’m fully capable of carrying a box, young man. Now you and my daughter catch up. Don’t worry about me.” The indomitable June Galloway turned and walked through the house, heading to the backyard.
Kyle and I both chuckled.
“Come on, Mom made peach iced tea,” I told him, waving him through to the kitchen. He followed me just as he had done thousands of times before. Once upon a time, Kyle knew this house almost as well as I did. Our friendship group inhabited each other’s houses as if they were our own.
“One thing I can’t say no to is your mom’s peach iced tea.” Kyle perched himself on a stool and took the cold glass that I offered him.
“And snickerdoodles.” I put the plate of cookies down in front of him, and he attacked them as a man starved.
“Man, I sometimes dream about these. I think I gained ten pounds in my teens’ thanks to your mom’s baking,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.
I smirked. “You gained ten pounds because you ate like a horse.”
Kyle wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So, how’s it feel being back?” He took a long drink of his iced tea, watching me over the rim of his glass.
I lifted my shoulders. “Not sure yet. I’ve been back for all of an hour. Check back in with me tomorrow.” I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “What’s new with you, Web? Josie tied you down yet?”
Kyle had been dating Josie Robinson for the past five years. I had been surprised when I heard about them getting together and more than a little disappointed. Josie had been one of Chelsea’s minions. One of the beautiful and bitchy crew even if Josie was more palatable than Chelsea ever had been.
I suppose it made sense that Adam’s best friend ended up with his wife’s best friend. It was all rather icky and incestuous if you ask me.
Kyle scratched the scruff on his chin. “Uh, no. Josie and I broke up six months or so ago.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” I replied awkwardly.
Kyle snorted. “No, you’re not. You’re a shit liar, Galloway.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Fine. I’m not sorry. I never liked Josie. I could never understand why you were with her. You’re such a nice guy, and she’s such a…”
“Bitch?” he volunteered with a raised eyebrow.
“She was one of Chelsea’s lackeys. What else could she be?” I spat out. Even saying Chelsea’s name made me want to hit something. I had never hated someone the way I hated Chelsea Sloane—Chelsea Ducate now.
In school, she had made it her mission to make me miserable, and it drove her nuts that her attempts had mostly been unsuccessful. I hadn’t paid Chelsea, or her cronies, much mind. I had been happy with my tiny group of friends.
Sure, Chelsea spread rumors that I had a sex change operation the summer before sophomore year, and she had stolen my clothes during P.E. class during eighth grade, forcing me to borrow extra clothes from Skylar, meaning I spent the day decked out as a goth queen. She spat in my food at the cross-country pancake breakfast and whispered loudly about my flat boobs to her friends, inventing the unoriginal nickname, “Two-backed Meg.”
Sure, it hurt, but I had worked hard to develop a very thick skin, and I had never retaliated. Mostly because I didn’t want to waste my energy on the likes of Chelsea Sloane, but my loathing was intense. Skylar and I had defaced her picture in every yearbook, and Adam and I made up limericks devoted to her big nose—pre-plastic surgery.
So, my feelings of complete and utter betrayal were understandable when I discovered, to my complete and abject horror, that my best friend—the object of my undying devotion—had hooked up with my nemesis behind my back. It had happened ten years ago, but that kind of betrayal was hard to forgive. Particularly given the lengths Chelsea went to in order to bully me.
Adam and Chelsea had never made sense. Yes, they were both ridiculously good looking, but that was only about appearance. Their personalities were night and day. Or at least I had thought so. But given how quickly Adam threw me aside for a long pair of legs and glossy hair, maybe they were more alike than I had ever thought.
