Page 25 of The Promposal

How could I make this better? “I feel like I should tell you time heals all fishes in the sea or something like that. Or that thing you said to me about my mom. Something about chapters and footnotes and how people suck?”

That got me a small laugh, which I considered progress. “That wasn’t quite what I said, but yeah, people leave. I know that better than anyone.”

Her biological dad had taken off before she was even born, and her mom had died a few years ago from breast cancer. Ella was more acquainted with loss than anybody our age should be.

“Right. And Trent’s just a sucky footnote. That should probably just be deleted all together. He doesn’t even deserve footnote status.”

“Maybe. This all feels like the end of the world, but I guess if you consider the big picture ...” Ella’s voice trailed off.

“Not such a big deal?”

She leaned her head to one side, as if considering. “Nope. Still feels a little like the end of the world. And I’m so smad right now!” It was our word for when we felt both sad and mad at the same time. Which I got, because I’d been feeling that emotion for most of the evening.

“If it will make you feel any better, I punched him in the face.”

“You what?” she gasped.

I showed her my still swollen knuckles. “No one gets to cheat on my sister.”

Then, to my surprise, she started to giggle, which was about the last thing I expected, and it made me happy. I didn’t want her to keep crying. Trent didn’t deserve her tears. So I would make the ultimate sacrifice. “Do you know what we need?”

“Lots of ice cream?”

“Definitely. But I was thinking more along the lines of some expensive retail therapy.”

Ella looked over at her window. “But all the stores are about to close.”

I got up and grabbed her pink, bejeweled laptop from her desk and sat back down on her bed. “Yes. But do you know what’s not closed? The internet.” I handed her the computer, and she opened it. I saw that her web browser was already at her favorite store.

We sat against her headboard, and Ella rested her head against mine while clicking through pages of shoes.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

I could feel her nod. “Yeah. So far it only hurts when I breathe.”

After we bought out the entire inventory of Ella’s online store and ate our body weight in Ben & Jerry’s, I slept in Ella’s bed, not wanting to leave her alone.

Part of me expected that Trent would step up. That he’d come to the house and explain himself to my sister. Maybe even figure out a way to make it all up to her.

It didn’t happen.

Jake texted me, asking if Ella was okay. I told him she was hanging in there. He sent me a frowny face in response.

But, again, no nightly phone call from him.

The next day Ella acted more like herself. Not quite as perky and cheerful, but some shade of it.

“You seem better,” I commented.

“That much sugar will cure just about anything,” she said with a faint smile. “What are your plans for today?”

“I have Kenyetta’s birthday party with Jake, and then after that I’m free. We can spend the rest of the weekend eating more ice cream, buying as many shoes as you want, and talking about how much Trent needs to be smacked again.”

Just then my phone rang. Jake.

“Speak of the hot boyfriend ...” I muttered as I answered my cell. “Hey!”

“Hey, Tills. I hate to do this, but I’m not going to be able to make Kenyetta’s party today. Something came up.”

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