Page 64 of The Puckable Playbook

She pulls open the glass door, and we step through. There are about five people in line, and I look around, scoping out the edges of the café so we can have a little privacy. I spot an empty booth in the back. It’s too big for the two of us, but I don’t care. Huge groups aren’t waiting around for it, so I point it out to Flora and head over.

I sit facing the entrance. While I wait, I scroll through my emails without really seeing them as I think about what I want to say to Flora. I’ll tell her about Clark first, of course. Maybe I could even ask her about what I should say to Zaiah. Do I tell him I’m the one who threw Trish under the bus? What about the dress and the fact that he saw me first? What aboutmy dad?

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Flora says.

“A lot of information to process,” I tell her.

“Well, I’m here for it.” She sits, wrapping her hands around her coffee.

I lean back. “I need advice, and as you might have noticed, you’re the only girl I talk to, so…”

She gives me a small smile, and for a passing moment, I feel like an idiot. I had other friends. Well, Trish had other friends, but when I cut ties with her, I was shy about making new ones. And keeping the old ones. People like Trish breed other people like Trish, and they’re not people I wanted in my life anymore.

Flora reaches across the table to set her hand on mine. “Len, we’re friends. It’s okay if you call us that, you know?”

Panic shoots through me at the wordfriend. It’s as if I have PTSD from my relationship with Trish, obviously at a much smaller scale than someone who went to war. However, sometimes our exchanges felt like mini battles. Subterfuge and counterattacks. I shiver just remembering.

“So?” Flora asks, lifting her brows. “I’m on the edge of my seat. Clark seemed off. You seemed great at first, and then…”

Taking a deep breath, I let it out. “I’ll start with Bubbles. Clark was miserable.” The whole story spews from my mouth like an exorcism, and as I’m telling her, I’m getting more upset about the things Clark did.

She slaps the table at one point. “Zaiah was there?”

I shrug. “I invited him.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Back this horse up. You invited Zaiah to your date with Clark?”

“Well, first off, Clark told me other people were going. He said we couldn’t take Zaiah because the car was full.”

“Then it ended up being only you and Clark?”

I nod.

“Hmm,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “I think someone was jealous.”

“He was upset, for sure. We were supposed to be out celebrating my article, but he wouldn’t even relax. He was mad that it was loud. He was mad that I drank.”

“Wait.” She holds up a hand. “He gave you shit about drinking?”

“He took me home early because he said I was making a fool of myself.”

“Okay, Len, I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible so I don’t hurt your feelings… This is not the guy for you. Fuck him. He’s not the guy for anyone. Run away.”

“I did. I mean, that’s why I’m so weirded out this morning. He took me home early, then he dropped me off and left before I realized I didn’t have my key. Plus, his parents came to visit on Sunday, and I mistakenly thought he was going to invite me, and he was like, straight up, no.”

She sits back and shakes her head. “Dick. I always suspected. The way he takes advantage of you in the newsroom—”

“He doesn’t—”

“Len, if you didn’t help that loser, nothing would ever get done.”

“I don’t know…”

“Idoknow, and I’m telling you as your new best friend. From now on, don’t help him. Watch how everything falls apart. I’m actually getting giddy thinking about it. Promise me you’ll pull back. You need to draw a hard line because this guy is toxic.”

I swallow, trying to recuperate from Flora’s battering ram of truth. Trish was toxic, too. I realized that on my own, so why did Clark escape my notice? Why didn’t I see it?

I open my mouth and close it.

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