Page 28 of More To Us

"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes. "I know you're not that clueless. He wants to date you. That's why he gave you his number." The waiter drops off our food and Amber waits for him to leave, then says, "So what did you say when you called him?"

"I told him I wasn't happy that he didn't tell me he was in the band. He apologized and offered to buy me dinner to make it up to me."

She throws her hands up. "Kira, that's a date. I told you he wanted to date you."

"It's not a date. It's just dinner."

"Where's he taking you?" She grabs the ketchup bottle and shakes it.

"Some stir fry place. He's into healthy eating." I focus on my salad, avoiding her gaze. "And he likes working out."

She holds the ketchup bottle over her plate and looks at me. "You're going to tell him, right?"

I ignore her and take a bite of my salad.

"Kira." She sets the ketchup bottle down. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Whatisn't a good idea?" I ask, a sharpness in my tone.

"You being friends with Austin."

I set my fork down. "And why is that? Just minutes ago you were telling me to go out with him."

"Yeah, but I wasn't thinking about how much he works out. It makes sense. That's why he looks that way. But it's not good for you to be around—"

"Stop." I throw my napkin down on the table and glare at her. "You are not my mother. It is not your job to tell me what's good for me and what's not. This isn't going to work if you start lecturing me."

"I wasn't..." She takes a breath. "Never mind. Let's just have lunch."

Why does she do this? Why does she treat me like this, like I need to be looked after? Like I can't take care of myself? She's been doing it all week and I can't take it. I got enough of that back when I lived at home. My parents constantly telling me to take it easy when I tried to work out. I couldn't even take a walk without my mom asking me how far I went and if I was in pain afterward. It was suffocating. I was used to spending my entire day at the gym and my parents didn't say a word about it. But after my injury, they constantly monitored me, going with me to the gym to make sure I only did what the physical therapist allowed.

Now Amber's doing the same thing. Monitoring me. Always asking where I'm going. Reminding me to take it easy. This can't continue. I'm an adult and if I want to train, I can. I have to. I have no choice.

My parents have a mountain of debt and it's all because of me. It's my debt, not theirs. And if I don't compete again, I'll never be able to pay them back.

Amber and I don't talk for the rest of lunch, then as we're waiting for the check, I say, "I'm going out with him tonight."

"Austin?" she asks.

"Yeah. So I won't be around for dinner."

"Fine," she snaps.

She's angry, but she has no reason to be. If anything, I should be mad at her for treating me like a child, watching my every move, reporting back to my mom, which I know she's doing.

I don't need a babysitter. I need a friend. And if she can't be that, then I can't live with her. And eventually, our friendship will end.

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