“Yup,” I replied.
“Bitchin’.”
40
Laurel
You know how when you have a bad day, you go home, put on your PJs, get in a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine, and everything somehow feels magically better?
Yeah, me neither.
In truth, I finished cleaning up the party, returned the supplies, went back to the flower shop to check on the temp I’d hired to run it while we were at the party, and spent an hour staring at my computer without seeing a thing.
Afterwards, I went upstairs, and made it as far as the floor in front of door when I lost
it. I’m talking, fall to my butt, tears and snot mingling on my face, while I tried to cry into Princess’s fur, as she tried to get away from me.
I felt foolish, and angry, and utterly sad.
When Dillon had spun me around and kissed me like he wanted to go on kissing me for the rest of our lives, I’d known I was out of my mind in love with him, and I thought, for the briefest second, that he was in love with me too.
Then, Jasmine’s voice had registered, and I’d realized that she was there, in the room with us, and that I was kissing her brother.
The cardinal sin of best friends.
She hadn’t even looked at me, so I knew she was beyond upset. I was probably going to be left behind like Megan Carson, who’d sat next to Jasmine at lunch in hopes of getting close to Dillon, and had ended up with a pudding cup in her lap.
The thought of losing my best friend, and Dillon, in one second was almost more than I could bear.
Princess hissed and finally got loose, so I laid down on the cold floor and hugged myself in the fetal position.
It was late, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything, and I didn’t want to move from that spot. Maybe I’d just sleep there. If I got lucky, Princess would come back and act as my pillow, or at least, cuddle for warmth.
A knock on my door made me flinch, but that was as much as I was willing to move.
“Laurel.”
I heard Jazzy call out my name and thought, Oh, God, she’s here to tell me to take a hike. Where is there left for me to go? Not Houston, not my parents … Ugh, everything had finally been going my way, and now it’s all turning to crap.
“Laurel, I know you’re in there… Come on, open up.”
I didn’t move a muscle, but I did feel the door hit my foot, and looked up to see Jasmine peeking around the door.
“You didn’t lock it,” she said, stating the obvious, then her face crumpled. “Oh, Laurel, get up.”
She squeezed through the small sliver of space that was available, since I was blocking the door and she couldn’t open it all the way, then shut it behind her and dropped to her knees.
“I’m sorry,” Jasmine said.
“What?” I asked, shocked. “You’re sorry, for what?”
“For telling Dillon about Travis; it wasn’t my place to tell him your story… I also shouldn’t have asked him to go all out in Chicago.”
“You were only being nice,” I mumbled, scooching forward to place my hand over hers on the floor. “And, it’s okay, about Travis. I’m actually surprised you hadn’t already, you guys tell each other everything, but I’m not mad that you told him.”
“Still,” she began, holding my hand tightly. “I knew how you felt about him, so it wasn’t fair of me to do.”
That made me sit up and swipe at my face with my palms.