Page 44 of Don't Let Me Break
“You always say that.”
“And sometimes, it’s true,” I argue.
She slips the eyeliner cap back into place, tussles her long blonde hair, and gives me her full attention again. “Sometimes. But not lately. Is it because of the seizure?”
“Ash…”
“Is it because we all have boyfriends, and you need another girl’s night? Because trust me, I get it.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then, what is it?” she asks.
“It’s…nothing,” I reply. And I hate not having a solid answer for her, but I’m not lying this time. Not necessarily. I can’t put my finger on why there’s more distance between us than usual. I can’t understand why I’m craving space while hating my overwhelming loneliness simultaneously. It’s confusing and complicated, but I don’t know what else to do about it. The truth is, sometimes, our feelings don’t come from logic or even conscious thought. They just are.
“We miss you, that’s all,” Ash murmurs.
“I miss you too,” I answer honestly. “But seriously, I’m happy for you. I’m happy you found Colt. I’m happy Blake found Theo. I guess I’m trying to find my own happy too.”
“That’s literally all I could ever want for you.” She pulls me into a hug, and I return it, wrapping my arms around her slender waist. When she lets me go, she studies me carefully and adds, “But are you sure you’ll find your happy while hiding away in our house?”
“Actually, I’m hanging out with a friend tonight––while studying,” I rush out.
Her expression lights up almost instantly. “Oo, a friend, eh? Is this a boy friend or a girl friend?”
“Boy,” I tell her. “But it isn’t like that.”
“Oh?”
“What isn’t like that?” Blakely interrupts from the hallway.
“Kate’s hanging out with a boy tonight,” Ash answers for me, turning back to the mirror and lacquering her lashes with mascara.
“I thought she had to study?” Blake questions. She takes my place near the doorjamb, so I sit down on the edge of the bathtub and make myself comfortable. I should’ve known they’d interrogate me tonight. Part of me misses it. The girl talks. The opportunities to open up about something other than epilepsy or school. It’s nice. Refreshing. And a little scary.
I glance at Blake and announce, “Iamgoing to be studying, but I’m going to do it at Mack’s house instead. Asfriends,” I reiterate.
Blake gasps. “No freaking way.”
“What?” I shy away from her and all the scrutiny seeping from her stare. “Seriously. We’re just friends.”
“Who’s just friends?” Mia calls from her doorway.
Seriously? Is there not an ounce of privacy in this place?
The girl’s dressed in a black crop top and black jean shorts, showing off her plethora of tattoos and toned stomach I’d kill for.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask.
“Catching a ride with the girls,” she returns. “And who’s your new friend?” she presses.
“Were you eavesdropping?” I demand.
“Do you really think any of us are able to keep secrets in this house?” she counters.
“You’vebeen keeping secrets,” I argue.
Her lips purse as Blake interrupts, “We aren’t talking about Mia. We’re talking about you and Macklin kissing in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”