Page 48 of Between Love and War
Then she flops back onto the couch like nothing happened. “Anyway. If I fall mid-note and die in tech rehearsals, you can have my ring light.”
“Thanks?” I say.
She tosses a chip at me, grinning. For a second, the nerves are gone and she’s slowly coming back to herself.
I heat up some leftover pizza because it’s Friday night and I willrelax. After eating, I head to my room, change into an oversized t-shirt with a questionable coffee stain, and do what I do best when the day’s been too much: I overdo my skincare.
Cleanser. Toner. The fancy serum I pretend not to care about but secretly ration like liquid gold. And, finally, a mint-green face mask.
I lie back on my bed with my Kindle, propped up on a pillow, reading a romance novel. I even reach for the heating pad, because apparently, I’ve become the kind of person who voluntarily warms her back on a Friday night.
Peace. Quiet. A well-moisturized existence.
I wonder how Michael’s doing with Polly. Not that I want to join them, but I can’t help but imagine how he’s handling things.
I finish a few chapters before the doorbell rings.
I freeze. No one rings the bell at—I glance at the clock—nine p.m. unless it’s an emergency. Or a food delivery gone wrong. I huffle to the hallway and peek. Haley beats me to it and yells, “It’s for you!”
“What?”
“It’s your boyfriend!” she yells louder.
“I don’t have one!” I yell back as I run down the stairs, panic rising as I pat my face to check if I’ve already peeled off the mask. I haven’t. It’s still very much there. Cold. Sticky. Green.
Haley gives me a once-over and chuckles as she strides back to the living room, leaving the view of Michael standing in the doorway.
I am suddenly, painfully aware that I am wearing an oversized t-shirt that says Don’t Text Your Ex in Comic Sans, no pants (unless you count boyshorts), a towel-wrapped head, and a face mask that makes me look like a botanical swamp creature.
I glance down. The shirt just covers enough. Still, I subtly tug at the hem.
Michael bites back a smile. “Hello, Fiona, is Kate here?”
Haley cackles from the living room. I shoot her a warning glance.
“Whatever, what do you need?” I ask.
Michael looks at my head, then the ceiling, then my face. “Um… I have a question.”
“What?” I say, annoyed.
Michael smiles. And then he says, in a singing tone, “Do you wanna build a snowman?”
I narrow my eyes at him to keep myself from laughing. “You want me to help you babysit?”
“Yes,” he answers. “Sorry. I know dealing with kids is the last thing you need on a Friday night, but I’ll make it up to you. Think of this as me cashing in on—” He halts and make a smoking gesture with his hands.
I actually don’t mind Polly. She’s one of the sweetest kids.
“I wanna hear it from you though. That you need me. Desperately.” I cross my arms and tap my foot.
He groans. “Katie—”
I tilt my head. “Say it.”
He puts a hand over his heart. “I need you. Desperately. Please.”
I let the silence hang dramatically, then sigh. “Fine. Give me ten minutes. I’ll go over there.”
