Page 36 of Press Play

Marilyn scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’ll have to come back later.”

“I’m already here, now is a perfect time.”

We stare at one another for a moment, almost as if we’re gauging each other’s stubbornness. I won’t back down, and neither will she. I have knowledge on my side, though, and in a couple of minutes, her phone will ring. It will be her husband’s best friend, and she’ll answer it because she wants to get laid.

“Mom!” one of Wren’s sisters calls from the other room. “Your phone is ringing!”

Right on cue.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Marilyn snaps before starting toward her phone.

I step inside and close the door. Wren’s sisters wave at me from the living room, so I wave back with a soft grin. “Is Wren upstairs?” I ask.

“Yeah, she was up all night with a stomachache,” Pensley answers.

“What happened?”

“Mom lied,” Amelia offers

“Where’s her room?” I ask.

“Last door on the left.”

Using the railing, I propel myself up the staircase and walk as fast as possible down the hall. Stopping at the closed door, I tapon it. “Wren? It’s me. Can I come in?” A few seconds pass with no response. “You better be decent.” I put on my teasing voice, hoping to crack a smile.

I turn the doorknob and push it open. When I glance into her room, the sight before me makes my heart drop into my stomach.

They haven’t been here for long, maybe a month, if I remember correctly. Wren has yet to unpack. Boxes are opened, but it looks like she’s living out of them. A pile of blankets is in the corner of the room. Some light filters in through the closed blinds, and the scent of apples fills the room from a candle she has yet to light.

They didn’t have time to take the mattresses from the last move a year ago, leaving most of them sleeping on the floor. The faint sound of the show I made fun of her about sounds from the corner.

With a soft, slightly heart-broken smile, I walk toward her. “Hey, you,” I whisper while settling on my knees.

A pained groan vibrates from beneath the blankets. After a few beats, she reaches out, pauses her show, and removes the covers from her face.

“Fucking, hell, Wren.” I cup her cheeks as I take her in.

She’s pale, more so than usual. The contour of her jawline is visible through her skin, and her eyes have deep purple bags under them.

I rub my thumb against her cheek, and she leans into my touch. “She got you good, didn’t she?” I murmur.

She nods before saying, “Sorry. . . for not texting you back. I couldn’t. . .” She frowns before whimpering a curse.

“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t apologize to me.”

“I hate this,” she cries.

My heart snaps into a million pieces. All I can do is wipe away her tears as she sobs.

Her fingers tremble as she tries to lift the blanket off her, but she gives up and lets out a long, shuddering breath. “Why can’t I just be normal? I’m so tired. I’m so fucking tired of this. My family feels like shit because they can’t afford to feed me. I’m always the problem. Why do I have to be such a burden? Why?—”

“Stop,” I say through clenched teeth. “Don’t utter another word.”

Closing my eyes, I work on silencing my anger. I continue to wipe away her tears, and when they stop, I meet her gaze again.

“Don’t talk about my best friend like that,” I whisper. “You can’t say stuff like that about yourself. You’re everything to me.”

“I’m sorry?—”

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