Page 18 of Just Friends Forever
I snort, spraying scrambled eggs all over my shirt and the table.
Stevie stares at me, and I cover my mouth with a hand. I wiggle my nose up and down. “I think I have eggs in my sinuses. You have a pet monkey?”
She takes a bite of her eggs and shoots me an impressed look. “These are really good, Troy. Perfect amount of salt. And no, no pet monkey. At least, not a real one.”
“Um, what?”
She hesitates for a second. “I have a virtual pet monkey.” Her head tilts from side to side. “Technically, it’s a gibbon.”
My brows go up.
“Hey, don’t judge. I had alotof free time to fill for the past year.”
I put my hands up. “No judging here. I just want to see it. That’s all. A gibbon is way better than a monkey.” I almost say,I wouldn’t have blamed you for leaving Curtis for a gibbon, but I don’t because I have a filter.
Stevie navigates to an app, and I come to stand behind her, watching her scroll through dozens of animals.
“Are those all yours?” It comes off sounding more judgmental than I meant it to. I’m just in awe, I guess. Stevie isn’t the type of person to be glued to her phone, and the fact she’s been spending a lot of time on a virtual pet app says a lot. When she told me she hadn’t been able to talk about the divorce, I didn’t really think about what that would mean for her. How would it be to not be allowed to even mention the most all-consuming thing happening in your life—to anyone?
It makes me feel sick inside—and angry at Curtis. No wonder I hadn’t heard from her in months.
“They might be …” she says.
“How many are there?”
“Does it sound less pathetic if I say three-score and three?” she asks, clenching her teeth together like she’s waiting for me to pin a scarlet N on her chest for “Nerd.”
“No, Stevie,” I say with a chuckle. “It really doesn’t. You’ve kept 63 virtual pets alive?”
She rears back in mock offense. “My pets aren’t just alive, Troy. They are thriving. Okay, here he is.” She displays an adorable gibbon, swinging from rope vines in a virtual zoo cage.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Swinger.”
My brows shoot up. “Swinger?As in—”
“Not that kind of swinger,” she says firmly. “Swinger as in heswingsfrom branch to branch.”
I nod, trying not to bust up laughing.
“Youtry naming sixty-three animals. It’s not as easy as you think.”
“Clearly,” I mumble as she jabs me in the ribs. “Well, Swinger is very cute, but I’ve got to say, I’m disappointed he isn’t real. What’s the point of being famous if you can’t have a real pet monkey?”
“I’m not famous,” she says, turning off the phone. “Curtis is famous. Without him, I’m just a nobody who went to Sunset Heights High.”
“Hey, Sunset Heights Hawks are winners. Every last one of us. Also, youarefamous, but I take your point. In fact, I get it better than you might think.” My relevance to people nowadays is generally centered around my relationship to Austin.
Her gaze flicks to mine, and our eyes hold for a second until her phone vibrates again. She looks down at it, her eyes scanning the message. Pink starts creeping into her cheeks.
“What is it?” I ask.
She turns off the screen. “Just more news stories.” She stirs her eggs around with her fork. “You know, for months I’ve had this on my chest, unable to talk to anyone about it. Now suddenly the whole world knows, and within a couple of hours, everyone is so certain about their theories.”
I don’t say anything because, when it comes to Stevie’s divorce, I’m just as much in the dark as the general public. I don’t want to push her to talk if she’s not ready, but I also want to be here for her in the ways she needs, and that’s hard to do if I don’t know whether she’s relieved or devastated.
“Whatdidhappen?” I ask gently.
