Page 157 of The Friend Scheme
I let that sink in for a second. It brings Jason to my thoughts. Even here.
What’s wrong with me?
“Hey, I was just wondering, did you talk to your dad?” she asks.
“About what?”
“My theory about the Friend Scheme.”
That feels like a lifetime ago.
“Oh, yeah. I did.”
“And?”
“He didn’t listen to me. You shouldn’t be offended; he never does.”
“Oh.” She frowns.
Now she knows I’m not worth her time. I’m never going to be in charge, and now that I’ve shown that I’m a dead end, she’s going to bail.
“I’m going to do a lap,” she says. “All right? And you should try the cookies over there, they’re weirdly good.”
“’Kay.”
She stands up and walks away.
I’m probably overreacting. It’s a funeral reception, everyone is acting weird, because we aren’t taught how we should act at one of these things. Cassidy isn’t going to drop me over this.
I pull my phone from my pocket. I turned it off during the service.
No new messages.
I squeeze my phone case for a second, so hard I’m worried the screen might crack, then put it back into my pocket.
After the reception, we all went to our place.
People are drinking, but nobody is having a good time. Obviously.
Barely anyone is even talking. What could we even talk about? Talking about anything else would be disrespectful, and I don’t think any of us need to vocalize just how awful this is.
Luke makes his way up to me.
He’s wobbling all over the place, and his eyes are red.
He collapses onto me. I’ve never seen him this drunk. He stinks like bourbon.
“So this girl—I know it’s not Cass,” he says. “Is she hot?”
His face is so dazed it’s like he isn’t even listening.
“Yeah,” I say. “She’s smoking.”
“Show me pics.”
“Dude, no.”
“Why?”
