Page 81 of Paradise in Progress
“I didn’t mean that literally.” She shrugs and tightens her hold.
“Zoe will be here any minute. We’re having a girls’ night in.”
“Lan, I’m really not in the mood.”
“That’s precisely why we are having it. It’s time for Kennedy to get her groove back.”
“Wasn’t her name Stella?”
Lana rolls her eyes as she moves to the opposite side of the couch. “Stop being so literal.”
Before I have a chance to respond, there’s a knock at the door. Lana jumps from the couch and practically hurdles through our townhouse to answer. I hear hushed voices coming from my two closest friends, and I know they are discussing me. I hate feeling like this. I’m giving myself one more night to wallow, then I’m putting on my big girl panties and striding through that office like that bad bitch I am.
“Hey, babes,” Zoe’s soft voice greets. “I brought Chinese takeout and wine.”
“Zo, I’m not a scared animal. You don’t have to use that sugary voice with me. I promise not to pounce on you or take off and hide.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure where your headspace was at.”
Lana comes back into our tiny living room with wineglasses and forks in her hand, while Zoe is busy unpacking the boxes of food from the brown paper bag onto the coffee table. The familiar smell of Chinese food wafts through the air as Zoe opens each box, and my mouth instantly waters at the sight. Boxes of orange chicken, beef andbroccoli, chow mein, egg rolls, crab rangoon, and fried rice cover my table.
“Hungry, Zoe?” I chuckle as I stare at the piles of food—enough to feed a small army.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and I wasn’t sure if you were eating enough.”
Grabbing a fork from Lana’s outstretched hand, I stab my fork into the box and pull out an egg roll. “Lucky for you, I’m starving.”
The three of us fall into silence as we squeeze onto the couch, taking turns passing the cartons of food as we stuff our faces. Best friends, the real ones, don’t care if you eat after each other. They avoid dirtying up dishes and share cartons of food, especially when one needs it the most.
As the opening credits of10 Things I Hate About Youbegin, Zoe interrupts our feast. “So are we ready to talk about the elephant in the room?”
“Which one?” I ask around a mouthful of chow mein. “The fact I was left out of the article, I get to see my ex-slash-tropical fling-slash-boss tomorrow, or the fact that Heath Ledger was fine as hell in this movie?”
Lana clinks her fork against her wineglass, almost as if she’s signaling a winning sound. “Heath Ledger, RIP.”
Zoe rolls her eyes as she digs into the orange chicken. “I was referring to your Golden Boy.”
“First of all, he’s notmyGolden Boy. He’s not my anything.”
“That’s my girl,” Lana agrees. “I say you keep him at arm's length tomorrow, but wear something that makes you look hot—hotter than usual—just to flaunt it in his face.”
“Wait,” Zoe interrupts. “Are you not on Team Tristan?”
“First of all, there are no teams.”
The girls snap their heads in my direction as their eyebrows furrow, but it’s Zoe who jumps in first. “Yes, there are teams, and while we are all Team Kenny, we’re also Team Whoever makes you happy.”
“And that’s why I think she needs to move on fromhewhoshallnotbenamed.”
“Tristan. We can say his name.” I rip off a piece of crab rangoon and pop the warm cream cheese mixture into my mouth.
“How are you going to handle tomorrow when you see him? Honesty.”
“I have no idea, Zo. I won’t be the girl to avoid him and cower in the corner, but I also don’t know how I’m supposed to be professional when my heart aches for him. I miss him, even though I shouldn’t.”
“Why do you think you shouldn’t?” Lana asks. I stare at her quizzically. She’s been team whoever makes me happy, and this question is throwing me for a loop.
“Because he hurt me.”
