Page 3 of Heart to Heart
Kiki rolled her eyes. “That joke is as tired as your wardrobe. Besides,” she held up the near-empty pint of ice cream, “Avery and I already made dinner.”
Ethan looked between Kiki and me and back again, sensing it wasn’t the night to crack jokes. In the three months they’d been dating, he’d proven himself a worthy sparring partner for Kiki. And if I was being honest, I didn’t mind having him around either, even though it meant having to fall asleep with earbuds in and a podcast cranked up high on the nights he decided to sleep over.
“I guess I’ll order a pizza.” He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and proceeded to scroll for the number to the neighborhood pizza joint two blocks down from our apartment.
“It’s so hot when you cook,” Kiki called out to him. “And you,” she turned her head to me, holding out her hand, “that reminds me. I need your phone, please.”
“W—why,” I asked, hesitating before giving in and pulling it from the front pocket of my hoodie.
Without giving me a chance to change my mind, she snatched it out of my hand. “Just doing something I know you won’t.”
“My passcode is?—”
“1-2-3-4. Yeah, I know. You should consider changing that. Any weirdo could guess it.”
“Like the one sitting next to me.”
The corner of Kiki’s lips turned upward ever so slightly. “You’re being pretty cheeky for someone who probably has a viral breakup video on TikTok right now.”
“Oh, no,” I moaned, hiding my face in my hands. “I didn’t even think about that. Is that what you’re looking for?”
“No, but I can if you want me to.”
“God no. I’d rather be blissfully unaware.”
Ethan plopped down on the plastic lawn chair we had left unfolded for company. Company wasn’t usually as large as Ethan, and his abundant height, combined with the chair’s lack of it, reminded me of Adam Sandler trying to squeeze into an elementary school student’s desk inBilly Madison. “I knew something wasn’t right. You broke up with what’s-his-name?” he asked, taking a bite from a bologna sandwich.
Kiki glanced up at him. “I thought you were ordering a pizza?”
“I am, but I’m hungry now, so…sandwich.” He held up his half-eaten creation just as a glob of mustard escaped from the bottom, landing on his white T-shirt.
Shaking her head, Kiki muttered, “You’re lucky you’re good in bed.”
“I didn’t break up with Guy,” I interjected, not wanting to go down the road this conversation was heading, “he broke up with me, actually.”
“What? You’re kidding,” Ethan exclaimed through a mouthful.
“It sounds like it was pretty epic. A little public shaming here, some vomiting there.” Kiki accentuated those points with a flick of her wrists before turning her attention back to my phone.
“Back up. Did that douchenozzle break up withyou?” Ethan shook his head, flummoxed. I should have been flattered by the absolute incredulity with which he asked that question, but truth be told, it stung like pouring peroxide into an open wound.
“You never even met him.”
“I have,” Kiki chimed in. “He’s a douchenozzle. Her thumb scrolled through my phone. “Damn, you have a lot of Facebook friends. Oh, here we go—oh, shit.”
“What?” I whipped my head to look at Kiki, who looked just as sick and angered as I must have seemed earlier. “What is it?” I lunged for my phone, but she was too quick, jumping to her feet and holding it up in the air.
“Avery, please trust me when I tell you you’d rather not know.”
I knew it must be bad. Kiki was hardly ever serious if she didn’t have to be. She was trying to protect me, just as any friend would. But I resented being treated with kid gloves. I always had.
“Keeks, please.” I tried to reason with her because I knew that was the only thing that would work with her. “Whatever it is, whether I find it out now or later, I’m going to find out. Maybe it’s better I do so with my best friend next to me.”
She glanced from me to Ethan like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do—a strange tactic, considering Ethan routinely had issues choosing between Sprite and Sierra Mist.
“I mean, she has a point.” He shrugged. Kiki glared at him and opened her mouth to say something when a sudden buzz, signaling the arrival of the pizza he’d ordered, jolted him to his feet. “Thank God for that ten-minute guarantee.” He ran to the door, leaving Kiki and I alone.
“Here,” she sighed, “but just know you’re going against my advice as your best friend.”
