register to whisper, “My news is… you were right!”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised. It’s not very often that someone tells me that I was right about something. So this really is news. “I was? About what?”
“About Pete!” Magda cries, leaning back. She’s grinning ear to ear. “You told me I should just tell him how I feel. Well, last night, after the pizza, I finally worked up the courage, and… I did. And… ”
I am not generally a squealer, but letting that sentence trail off like that is just plain cruel, and has me squealing.
“And what?” I shriek.
“And he said he feels the same way about me,” Magda whispers, happily. “We’re going out now.”
I stare at her. “You’re lying.”
She grins at me. “I am not lying. Oh, we’re not—what did she call it? Making sweet love all day? — yet, like Sarah is. We’re taking it slow—you know, because of the kids. But we’re definitely right for one another. Now. What do you have to say about that, Miss Heather Wells?”
