Page 59 of Habits

I lift my hands in the air. “I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

“Tell that to somebody who believes in your bullshit, Hill.” She rolls her eyes, hopping off the counter. “Oh, and if I see any more of your hussies hanging on you, the deal is off.”

Then she walks away without giving me a second glance.

Jeanette

“Do you think people are beyond redemption?” I ask suddenly, going through the stack of clothes in front of me.

All the movement around me stops, making me lift my gaze and face my companions.

“Where is this coming from?” Lia asks, a small frown marring her face.

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “Just wondering.”

“Some heavy wondering for a silly shopping expedition.” The sarcastic answer comes from the other side me.

I turn around to give Brook a nasty stare. Things between us have been somewhat better after the night she came to my house drenched as a mouse, but that doesn’t make us best friends. I don’t think we’ll ever be. We’re both too fucked up to be the type of besties you see in movies, painting each other’s nails while spilling secrets and gossiping about boys. Yeah, I think not.

“Not all of us wander around with nothing deep on our minds.” I roll my eyes, but my words don’t have their usual bite.

Maybe I’m not ready to call them my friends; we all know how that turned out the first time around, but they sure are getting on my soft side.

They’re like puppies, cute and overly eager to please just so they can get a tummy rub.

“And here I thought the only thing on your mind was figuring out the best way to ice people out.”

Ouch.

Her words sting, but I lift my chin higher in the air, not letting her get to me.

“Brook!” Amelia exclaims in warning, coming to stand between us. “Can we please concentrate on getting the job done? Derek’s parents invited me for dinner this weekend, and I need to look my best.”

“What’s wrong with something in your closet?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs, going back to searching through stacks of clothes. “I just want to look pretty, B.”

“You’re always pretty, Lia.” She interrupts her. “Don’t let anybody convince you otherwise.”

“I know, but I want to wear something extra pretty, like the dress Mom got me for my date with Derek. He has never brought a girl home, Brook. I want them to like me.”

“They’re going to like you, Amelia.” I come closer, my hand touching her shoulder in reassurance. “Everybody likes you.”

“You don’t like me.”

There is no malice in her words, only the truth.

“I’m different,” I say simply, shrugging. My hand falls from her shoulder, and I take a dress out of the stack. It’s not something I can imagine Amelia wearing, but I have to do something with my hands.

“Why?”

That one word is filled with so many questions.

Why don’t you like me? Why are you different? Why are you even here? Why don’t you care? Why don’t you have friends? Why are you still hanging with us despite that?

Why?

“You remind me of someone.” I swallow hard, a small, barely visible smile appearing on my lips. “Someone I used to know.”

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