Page 17 of Passing Notes

And like a fool, I had almost allowed him to do it again. We’d almost kissed on my balcony, for eff’s sake.

Damn him.

Maybe I should talk to him.

We could have lunch together. I could let him attempt to explain what the hell he had been thinking back then, and then I could yell at him and throw a drink in his face or smack him around a little bit.

He deserved to be given a piece of my mind. He deserved to be as broken up about seeing me as I was by seeing him...

with his cute kids . . .

in his beautiful house . . .

all happy and content and living his life like?—

UGH!

Friends, he had said.

He wanted to be my friend?

After all we had been through together?

After all we had meant to each other?

No frickin’ way.

He was living over there with a family and all I had was a freaking bug to keep me company.

After spending the better part of my morning simmering and sulking and showering, I threw on my best leggings and sports bra combo. I fluffed up my boobs, then added a silky robe over the ensemble and pulled my hair up in a bun. If I was going to be miserable, I was going to look hot doing it. I grabbed a deep berry lipstick and slicked it on.

Frickin’ Nick.

Freaking stupid dumb feelings.

I was in a spiral. I hadn’t been this pissed off since my old boss grabbed my ass and I broke his fucking nose.

Nick had better watch out. He was lucky I liked his kids. He seemed like a good dad, too. And there was the whole bug rescue thing, damn it.

No breaking Nick’s nose.

After heading down to my kitchen, I switched on my coffee maker to make a fresh pot and paced around the kitchen island, muttering to myself as it brewed.

I fixed my mug and stalked to my front door and threw it open dramatically, because that’s the kind of mood I was in.

“Damnnnn, Clara. Look at that face. What’s wrong?” My lifelong best friend Molly stood there with her hand formed into a fist ready to knock on the door. Leo—my other bestie, ever since grade school—was with her. They were not just my friends; they were also my high school companions in delinquency. They used to be as messed up as I was, but now I was the only one left rotting in misery now that they were both loved up and each part of a healthy marriage, the jerks.

We’d spent our days cutting school, usually drunk, as we commiserated over our problems.

When Molly’s dad had passed from cancer, her mother had mentally checked out, and shortly after, remarried and left the family. Her oldest brother—who was now Leo’s husband—had taken his siblings under his wing and was now essentially a father figure to Molly and her other two brothers.

Leo’s parents had kicked him out when he told them he was gay, and he’d moved in with his grandparents.

Sadie had joined us on occasion, whether it be under the bleachers at the football field, or behind the library, but she’d usually been too wrapped up in her stupid boyfriend to hang with us.

“Who put this tragic look on your face? Tell us who to maim.” Leo placed the cooler bag he was carrying on the porch, shoved his way around Molly, and tugged me into his arms. “We got you, sweetie.”

“Yeah, give us a name,” Molly insisted. “Say the word, and we’re off. Is it your ex-boss? Is something finally happening with that situation?”