Page 67 of Betting on the Best Friend
Charlie’s reply takes long enough that I set my phone down. My parents have both gotten up, and I watch them in the kitchen together, my dad swatting my mom’s butt as he passes her to put away the bread and preserves.
Not tomorrow but soon
Need a little time
That’s fair
Not because I’m mad
Just
Gotta fix my face?
Fix his face. Like figure out how to get his game face on for dealing with me?
Yeah, I hate this. But the options are push through or break up as friends, and I could never.
You give good face
You don’t need to fix anything
But I get it. We good?
Will be. Promise.
I have to believe that because there’s nothing else I can do. Charlie has to decide how this will go next, and it’s my job as his friend to give him all the time he needs to do that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ruby
When I get homefrom work Tuesday, I stop and look at my besties waiting for me on the sofa.
“I’m having deja vu. The bad kind,” I say. “Oh, wait, that’s PTSD.”
“It’s all love,” Sami says. “Madison told us about you and Charlie.”
“How can we help?” Ava asks.
I drop my bag beside my favorite armchair and take a seat. “It feels wrong to talk about it. Like I’m putting Charlie’s business out there.”
“Understood,” Sami says, putting a hand over Madison’s mouth when she starts to protest. “Besides talking about it, would anything help?”
“Don’t know,” I say, wishing hard that I did. Two things strike me. The first is that I’m very lucky to have friends like these. But the second . . . “How come none of you are trying to talk me into liking Charlie? I thought he was your favorite.”
“He is our favorite,” Sami says. “And maybe we started a group text with him to check on him.”
“That’s good. But how come none of you tried to make him one of my dates?”
There’s silence.
My jaw drops. “Y’all don’t want me to date Charlie.”
Ava rubs at a spot on her pajama pants. Sami bites a nail. Madison studies her own nails like she’s considering biting them, then sets her hand in her lap because she’s not about to ruin her expensive manicure.
“Why not?” I demand. “Everyone keeps saying we act like we’re already dating anyway. What’s the issue?”
Ava gets up and comes around to stand behind my chair, where she leans down and wraps her arms around me. “Honey, you sound like a lunatic.”
