Page 6 of Betting on the Best Friend
That stops me short. “Why are you announcing that?”
Madison gives me a fully evil grin. “Can’t I be happy you’re home?”
“What are you up to?”
“You’ll see,” Ava says, walking in.
“Whatever you’re up to, I already hate it.” I may not know what they’re plotting specifically, but they have definitely seen the engagement post.
“That’s only because you’re not running the show,” Ava says.
“It’s a valid reason,” I say.
“Only one of us can run the show at a time,” Madison says. “It’s me today. Now enjoy some libations until we call you into the living room.” Ava pulls out a chair from the small dining table and waves me into it. Madison puts a glass of iced tea in my hand as soon as I sit.
They disappear into the living room with loud whispers, and I don’t bother trying to decode the rustling I hear, instead using the time to text Charlie.
The girls are conspiring against me
Please send video
Not the support I was looking for
It’s always something good
Unless it’s bonkers and exhausting
Same thing
I scowl at his replies. I hope karma finds him in the form of Mrs. Davenport tomorrow. She’s an elderly regular we have to watch like we’re Secret Service agents or she’ll clip pictures from the magazines, leading to complaints from patrons who find holes where they’re expecting their article to continue.
Sometimes you can even tell what she cut out from the shape left behind. There was a confusing period where patrons kept bringing us vandalized magazines and sending us into giggles until we figured out Mrs. Davenport was clipping photos of the first rocket launched by the nearby aerospace company.
“You can come out now!” Sami calls.
I sigh and obey, leave my untouched drink behind, and walk into the living room to discover each of my roommates holding a hand-lettered sign made with crayon and printer paper. Sami’s says, “Happy Ruby Liberation Day.” Ava’s says, “Celebrating Six Months Chump-Free!” And Madison’s reads, “IT’S OUR TURN.” She wrote it in pink and decorated it with hearts and flowers, but it means trouble. I can feel it.
I sigh. “You saw the engagement post.”
“Not that you care, right?” Madison asks.
“I absolutely care,” I say, and Madison’s face falls. “I care that I wasted five years on that drool stain.”
Ava grins and Sami and Madison high five. I smirk at them and plop on the sofa. “You don’t need to cheer me up. I’m mad but mostly at myself for not dumping him sooner.”
“That’s excellent news,” Madison says.
I note three closed shoeboxes on the coffee table. Hmm. That’s a Madison antidote, not a Ruby one. “If I pretend I’m upset about the engagement, will there be comfort chocolate involved?”
“We have a whole ceremony ready to go,” Sami says. She picks up a Doc Martens box and opens it, tilting it toward me to reveal several bags and boxes of chocolate. “Chocolate is only the beginning.”
Ava scoops up the Nike box and flips up the lid to reveal some leafy plants. “Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.” She names them as she sets their temporary plastic pots on the coffee table. “Know why?”
“Because it’s a song and we’re going to make Sami sing it?”
Sami grins. “Kinda slow for my wheelhouse.”
Ava shakes her head. “These are all natural slug repellents, so I figured we could add them to our window garden.”
