“Who the fuck is Cam Hall?” Vonnie asks.
“Oh. It’s so good.” Liv’s eyes gloss over like they always do when the chance to gossip presents itself. She turns her chair to face Vonnie. “Cam went to high school with us and was ob-sessed with Elle. We all called it, but Elle didn’t believe us. And when Cam finally told her he was into her, she freaked and ran away and literally avoided him until graduation.”
“Okay, first of all? You know that’s not what happened. Cam was just trying to weasel his way into our group because he liked Ruby. Second, I did not avoid him! He avoided me once I called him on his shit. You know I was the DUFF, I can’t believe you’re still telling that story.”
“Oh my god! You were never the fucking DUFF!” Liv shouts as Marie groans.
Jeeeez. Glad I came in when this place was shut down after all.
“What the fuck is a DUFF?” Vonnie butts in, not here for high school tales and fucking same, Vonnie! “And why are we talking about Cam when we could be discussing Q’s fine self and Elle’s cute ass climbing in his car last night?”
“You know, a DUFF.” I wave her off.
“Saying the word again does not clear this up,” Vonnie says.
Of course super-stunning Vonnie has no idea what it is.
“It’s the designated ugly fat friend,” I decode, but I’m more focused on the tray of french fries and grilled cheese sandwiches that Tanya is dropping off on our table.
I knew Brynn was going to come through with the hangover food!
I reach across the table to grab some, but all I get is the taste of unexpected defeat. Brynn snatches the tray out of my reach.
“What the hell?” I ask, but when I look up, everyone at the table is wearing matching glares. “Umm . . . did I miss something?”
“Are you out of your ever-loving fucking mind?” Brynn puts the tray of fried goodness at the far end of the table. “Did you just call yourself ugly?”
“She did,” Vonnie says to Brynn while staying laser focused on me. “That’s exactly what she said.”
I hate being the center of attention, it gives me hives. I flip through my PR playbook until I find something that I think will work here. “You guys, relax. I said was and it was a joke!”
I mean, do I still have some body image issues? Of course I do! Who doesn’t? But it definitely doesn’t need the attention it’s getting right now.
Nobody says anything, they all just stare at me, trying to break me with their eyes. But I don’t give in.
“I hope so,” Brynn says at last, sliding a plate with a grilled cheese in front of me. “Because otherwise I have no problem locking you in here and telling you how wonderful you are until you believe it.”
“We’ve done it before, so don’t test us.” Vonnie drains the last bit of her martini and I’m pretty sure I was the reason behind the sudden consumption.
“I fucking love you guys,” Marie says to the table. “Anytime you want cupcakes, come see me. They’re on the house.”
“Okay.” Liv claps her hands to get our attention. “Now that that’s under control, can we get back to the topic at hand?” She turns to look at me and I swear she can see into my soul. “What the fuck happened with you and Quinton last night?”
Now, as bad as the self-help, self-love intervention might’ve been, I know with one hundred percent certainty that it would’ve been more enjoyable than this.
“Are you already blushing?” Marie asks. “Holy shit. This is either really good or fucking terrible. Which one is it?”
I sit on the question for a minute. Not to build excitement or curiosity or anything. But because I have no freaking idea why I came here to subject myself to this nonsense in the first place.
“Terrible,” I finally answer when I realize there’s no way to make it back to my car without getting tackled first. “More than terrible. Mortifying might be better. And I think I might be a predator now.”
“Well, crap!” a new voice says from behind me. “I skip out on one Wednesday meeting and this is what I miss?”
“Take a seat, Patterson.” Vonnie gestures to the beautiful woman behind me cradling her adorable baby bump. “This shit’s about to get good.”
Nineteen
“You kissed him?” Liv says for what feels like the tenth time.
“Yes.” My resolve not to drink has dropped to about negative three and I’m seriously eyeing the Johnnie Walker right about now.
“And he rejected you?” Vonnie asks . . . again.
I’m starting to feel like I’m stuck in some kind of time loop where only the last fifteen minutes repeat. And unlike all of the movies I watch where this happens, it’s missing the zany appeal.
“And then you ran away and now you’re ignoring his texts?” Marie not so helpfully points out.
“And calls,” Liv, the freaking jerk, not so helpfully fills in. “Don’t forget that she’s ignoring his calls too.”
You know, when I got swindled into meeting everyone here, I thought they would have a little restraint . . . maybe even be reluctant to open up in front of new people. Marie and Liv are my friends. They don’t really know Brynn and Vonnie. Hell, I don’t really know Brynn and Vonnie. How was I supposed to know that meddling in my life would bond them as though they’ve all known one another for lifetimes?
“Yes, okay?” I hit the table with a little more force than I intended, but none of them are helping and I’m reaching the end of my rope. “You’ve known me for half of my life. When have I ever not run from my problems?”
Therapy has helped me identify my issues and coping mechanisms. It has not, however,
