Page 3 of F*cking Shattered
I finally look over to see the anger etched on her face. “Then what? Be alone? I’m not like you. I don’t have a line of men waiting to date me.”
“Who cares? And you do have a line of men. You just won’t look at them or take the first step.”
I start picking at the skin around my fingernail, not wanting the confrontation. “I can’t. I’m just not that person. I’ve never been Ms. Popularity like you.”
She levels her eyes on me. “You have to start seeing what I see in you, Jo. You’re more than you think. You’re a great person. You’re my best friend. You deserve to get out of here and see the world. You deserve to meet a great man and fall in love. Have you ever been in love?” she asks, knowing the answer to that question.
I scoff. “That stuff is only for books and movies.”
Her jaw drops before she stands and walks over to my desk. She grabs a tablet of paper and a pen.
I follow her with my eyes. “What are you doing?”
She plops back down beside me. “We’re making a list of all the things you’re going to do this summer. When you see me again, I want all of these checked off.”
“What if I just check them off without doing them?” I challenge.
She removes the end of the pen from her mouth. “I will know. I’m serious, Jovi. While I’m gone, I want you to live. Live like I’m here with you.” She points the end of the pen at me and it seems like a light bulb has come on above her head. “No, live like I am dead and you’re living for the both of us. You know how much I expect from life so you better fulfill each and every one of these things.”
I laugh it off. “Fine. Make your stupid little list,” I say, knowing damn well that I probably won’t do half of it.
“Number one: Dance in public, like nobody is watching. Number two: Kiss a stranger.”
I quickly turn my head toward her. “Really? That’s just gross.”
She smiles but keeps writing. “Number three: take a trip— for fun, not work. Number four.” She studies me. “Fall in love.”
“How am I supposed to fall in love in three months? It will take me that long just to work up the courage to talk to a guy.”
She ignores me and continues to think out loud. “Number five: have a one-night stand.”
My eyes roll automatically. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just making fun of me.”
She laughs but keeps writing. I don’t even bother paying attention anymore.
* * *
An hour later, the list is complete and lying forgotten on the coffee table under the copious amounts of junk food. We each have a fruity drink in our hand while she applies my makeup.
“I said, close your eyes,” she grumbles while trying to give me the smoky eye look.
“I can’t,” I complain while fighting with my eyelid to stay shut.
“You’re making a mess with all the blinking you’re doing.”
“Ouch, it’s in my eye.” I pull away from her and desperately rub my eye, hoping to flush out the black powder.
I finally look at her and see the wide smile she’s wearing. “What’s so funny?”
She shakes her head and covers her mouth to try and stop her laughter.
“Show me,” I demand in my serious voice.
She reaches for the mirror and holds it up for me to see.
There is black eyeshadow all over my cheek, my eye is red and bloodshot, and the makeup is smeared clear across my face. I can’t help but to laugh.
“Add, ‘learn to apply makeup’ to that list.” She points at me before sitting back and taking a drink.