Page 5 of No, You Hang Up

Ever since a shitty car accident gave me compression pains in my lower back and have stuck around like bad memories. Shifting back on my hips, I give a little grumble at the burn, before finally sitting up and back on my heels. “Hello,” I greet at last, flipping my hair back from my face and grinning up at my two best friends. My television is onCatfish, but Em is quick to swipe the remote from the coffee table and go to my list of streaming services to pick something different. It had only been background noise anyway, so I’m definitely not upset about it. I get to my feet, eyeing the bags before glancing at Em and Madalyn. “How much food did you get?”

“You eat like an entire army platoon,” Em points out sweetly, looking up at me with narrowed, sky blue eyes set under dark bangs. They told me recently that as kids, she and Mads were mistaken as sisters quite a few times, and with their matching black hair and different shades of blue eyes, it’s still easy to see why.

I’m the odd one out, with auburn hair currently swept back into a ponytail that brushes my shoulders and dark hazel eyes. Whereas their skin is flawless perfection, a spattering of freckles that have lightened over the years are still starkly visible over my nose and cheeks.

“I’d argue if I wasn’t already in a mood,” I huff delicately, heading over to the counter to peek into the bags. Madalyn scoffs and starts pulling out the contents, so I take that as an invitation to do my part. Within minutes, we have a veritable buffet of food on my long kitchen counter; there are takeout boxes with a burrito for Em, taco sampler for Mads, and chicken nachos for me.

“Wow,” I praise, brows raising as I snag a chip. “They actually remembered to leave off the tomatoes this time. How progressive ofThe Pink Cactus.” I’ve always felt like the tex-mex restaurant nearby sounds a lot more like a cheesy Mexican themed bar than a restaurant, and the pink dancing cactus of their brand on the bags does little to assuage that belief.

“Well.” Madalyn rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t give them too much credit. We checked and there were extra tomatoes on it. You’ve had a shit week, so we had them remake it.”

“We would’ve had them remake it, anyway. But Mads was a lot more insistent on it this time,” Em remarks from the couch. “Hand me my food while I rent a movie. Actually, like, three movies.”

“Three movies?” I repeat, turning to look at her over my shoulder. “How long are you guys staying?”

“For the length of three shitty comedy movies, apparently,” Madalynn snorts. “We’re having a marathon, in case that somehow was unclear in your clearly sleep deprived state.” That gets another eye roll from me as I grab another nacho, but she goes on without prompting. “Remember when we were younger and shitty movie marathons were the answer? Yeah, we’ve decided that’s the answer to your problems tonight.”

My shoulders roll nervously as I work to dispel some of the tension in them, and I sigh. “I don’t have any problems,” I inform both of them a little warily as I try to take my mind off of the funeral I spent the week in Florida for.

God, I shouldn’t have gone.

No matter how much my estranged parents begged over call and text, I should’ve done what my friends suggested and held my damn ground. It wasn’t like anyone wanted me there, anyway.

“You know…” Mads reaches out to grab my hand before I can pick up another nacho, her hand is tight around my wrist as I wiggle my fingers with an irritated groan. “You can talk to us. We like to think we’re your best friends and all.”

“Four years going strong,” Em agrees from the couch. “Ever since Michigan.”

“You mean ever since I dragged both of you out of a frat house that was about to get raided by cops, drunk off your asses,” I grouse, nose scrunched at both of them as I push down any feelings about the last week. Out of sight, out of mind, I tell myself. Or…however that works.

It can only hurt me if I let it, and I don’t intend to do that.

“Seriously, though.” I finally shake free of Mads to grab another nacho, eyeing the two thawing pies and two twelve packs of soda on the counter. They really did set us up for the most sugar and salt fueled night ever, and the consequences of all of this in my system sure will be…interesting tomorrow. “I’m fine.”

“Are you though?” Em asks, prompting me to glare at the shorter girl on the couch. My gaze flicks to the TV, where the selection screen forWedding Crashersis up and ready to go. I can’t even complain. It’s one of my favorite comedy movies, for all that I don’t really enjoy stupid comedy that much.

“I love you both like the sisters I never wanted. But have I ever, in our four years together, had a breakdown session and told you all my inner, deepest feelings? Ah!” I hold up a hand before Mads can speak. “Have I done so whilesober?”The only reason they know about my shitty family history at all is because of alcohol, which I now usually stay away from, so I don’t end up sobbing on the couch to either of them about my problems.

No matter what a therapist might say, I prefer my problems to stay in a bottle, in a box, under lock and key. No matter the circumstance.

Before Mads can argue with me, I swipe a cherry Dr. Pepper from the box and the container of nachos. “Thank you guys,” I tell Em, collapsing on my inherited and very nice sectional beside her. “There’s totally nothing wrong that sleep won’t fix, but this is pretty great.”

“I miss doing shit like this.” Madalynn sits down on my other side, handing Em the box of tacos and her own can of soda. “Remember how obnoxious we were in college?”

“Remember when we got a cease and desist letter from the RA for taking over the movie lounge so you two could stage a sing-a-long night with Disney movies?” I ask dryly, swiping the remote to hit the play button.

“I remember whenMadalyngot a cease and desist and tried to rope us into it.” Em snorts, picking up a taco in her long fingers and manicured, fake nails.

Their bickering, friendly and light-hearted, picks up as the movie starts. Not that I mind. I could listen to this all night, and I can also repeat this movie line for line. It’s not like I need to actually listen to what’s going on.

Truthfully, this helps. Their friendship is more helpful tonight than I’ll ever admit, thanks to my stubbornness.

And they’ve never steered me wrong before. Not in a way with real-life consequences, anyway. So if my two best friends want to have a movie marathon that ends with either them leaving at some ungodly hour or just sleeping over on my couch, I really don’t mind either way.

Maybe them being here will keep the nightmares away.

“Where’s the remote?” As the credits ofThe Hustleplay on my screen, I crack open my third can of Dr. Pepper. Normally I don’t drink this much soda, but it’s a special occasion. That’s what I’m going with, anyway. “I have a request for our next movie. I haven’t seenRVin at least five years, and as Robin Williams is my spiritual guide in all things, I think it’s time.”

“Was your spiritual guide,” Em points out from beside me, her eyes on her phone. I’m not offended. She can’t focus on one thing easily, and just because she’s doing something else doesn’t mean she’s not spending quality time with us.

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