“Just tell me what happened.”
“We’ve been fighting a lot lately. Shit escalated. It’s over. He wants the chick he was banging before he met me. I left him to it.”
“You caught them together?”
I snort. Shit. “Not with the canoe in the pink taco as such, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Canoe... in the pink taco? Oh my God, that’s like, a Tommy-worthy innuendo. Five points to Gryffindor!”
I can’t help the little leap of excitement that’s centered in my belly. “You’ve read Harry Potter?”
She holds her hands out, palms facing me, like whoa, horsey. “Look at that, one mention of our favourite boy wizard and she’s back from the dead.” Katie smiles a bright one with teeth at me. “I’ve only read the first three. The fourth is HUGE. I don’t know when I’ll ever be done. And you know what? They keep getting better.”
“True that.”
Katie frowns, voice soft. “Can you please tell me what happened?”
I’m not going to win this; when Katie wants something it’s best to give it to her ‘cause she can whine. “Not before I eat four brownies and a bowl of ice cream.”
Katie grins, rolls over and tumbles out of my bed, landing on all fours. I don’t even ask if she’s okay. I just laugh and laugh and laugh. Funny thing is, I don’t know if she did that on purpose or not.
When I’m done downing sugar in all its glorious forms, I tell her everything. Every little detail that I can remember. She makes the appropriate noises. Growls when Hunter says something stupid or yelled at me, big aaaaawwws when Matty says something cute, and excited gasps when Hunt said sweet things about wanting me.
But she scream-squeaks when I tell her that I fell in love. And then bursts into tears right along with me as I say those words out loud, words I never got to tell him.
Katie then vows that she’ll hunt down Alysha and make sure she pays for messing with my man.
I tell her that Hunter’s not mine anymore.
“That better be a fucking joke, Sera.”
I frown. “I’m not going to be with someone who cheated on me. I already have low enough self-esteem, I don’t need that shit hanging over my head, too.”
Katie shakes her head and bites her lip, like she’s afraid to tell me something really important.“You don’t actually know anything, right? Like, she drove him to the hospital. You already hinted at him being a loner, maybe the guy doesn’t have any friends? How else was he going to get to the hospital?”
“By bus? His own two feet? Why did he have to call her?” I say.
Katie shakes her head at me again, but the kind of head-shake that says I’m missing out on a vital piece of the puzzle. It pisses me off.
“You told me his sugar was probably out of whack, right? What makes you think he would jeopardize himself by walking to the hospital when you have his car?”
“Whose side are you on?!” I get my feet under me, and get up from the couch. Stalking to the fridge, I get myself a glass of water, and don’t get one for Katie. That’s right, total badass. “He spent three hours with her, instead of being with me and his son. His son, K. What the fuck was he doing in all that time?”
She’s holding her hands out again. I just see them as potential targets for my fists instead of the universal ‘calm-down’ gesture they’re meant for.
“What if... what if he didn’t call her until last minute? Wait, just hear me out. You have no way of knowing if he spent the three hours with her or the last ten minutes or whatever it takes to drive to the hospital.”
She has a point. Damn it. “He could have called me.” No, no, he couldn’t’ve, because I forgot to take my phone when I left with Matty. I don’t like how this story is shaping up.
“Fine, then why didn’t he stop me from walking away, huh? What kind of asshole does that, right? Riddle me that!”
“I’m with you there. Total dick move. But maybe he was pissed off, too? Or embarrassed or ashamed?” She’s picking at the hem of her KISS tee. I don’t know what that means. I’ve never seen her look so uncertain before. “You know, you have a really bad habit of comparing your friends, and anyone you let get close to you to superheroes or people in your books or movies. Real people aren’t like that, you know? Most of the time, we don’t do the right thing, Sera. Most of the time we don’t save the day.”
“Fuck, you’re supposed to be making me feel better, not shittier. Christ, just stop talking.”I rub my eyes, refusing to cry anymore. They itch so much, I wonder if I’ve exhausted my tears supply for the year. I sigh, long and hard, letting all my misery out with it.