Page 20 of Sad Girl Hours
Just generally have the time of our gosh dang lives.
“I can definitely always rely on you to be thorough,” I say, scanning the list.
“Thorough is my middle name.”
“I thought it was Paige.”
She pauses for a beat. “Thorough isoneof my middle names.”
“Well, all right, Nell Paige Thorough Holloway, I do have a couple of questions.”
Nell sinks further back on to the sofa and gestures with her hands. “Hit me.”
“Gothic Horror Night?”
“We all dress up as someone either from a gothic horror novel or someone that wrote one, close all the curtains, light a concerning number of candles and do readings of our stories or poetry. I bagsy Poe, by the way. I already have the raven.”
“Obviously. I feel like I should be more surprised that you own a stuffed raven than I am.”
Nell cocks her head to one side. “Who said Nevermore is stuffed?”
I stifle a laugh. “Moving on. You should know I’m a terrible baker.”
“So am I. Next.”
“What do you mean by the Christmas-card photoshoot?”
“I mean, I think it would behilariousif we sent out a group Christmas card with a really cheesy picture of us all on the front.”
“Like eighties-mall photoshoot vibes? Double denim?”
“Oh, one hundred per cent. With awkward poses and really grimacing, toothy smiles. And tinsel round us like feather boas to add the festive touch.” “Oh, obviously.”
Nell looks at me, eyes ever so slightly narrowed. “I’m worried you think I’m joking.”
“Nell, believe me: at this point, I consider myself pretty well primed on how seriously you take things, even things that are generally very unserious themselves. I know you’re not joking.”
“I do commit pretty hard, it’s true.” She pokes her leg up in the air, revealing a pair of fluffy orange socks with a hole scandalously revealing a single big toe. “I’ve had these socks since I was twelve. But anyway, socks aside, let’s get down to business.”
“To defeat the Huns?”
“If we have time, sure. But I meant more to decide on our first activity. Are you free this Saturday?”
“I think so,” I say. “I might have some work to do, but I—”
“Excellent. Be ready for ten o’clock sharp. Dress warm. And cute. Although the cute part can probably go without saying with you, Miss Fashion Influencer.”
“Hate that, thanks. But OK, ten o’clock. What are we doing?”
“You’ll find out on Saturday. I’ve planned an excellent day of autumnal fun, if I do say so myself.”
“Which you do.”
“I do. And you will too after this weekend.”
