Page 28 of First Comes Forever

My bare feet thud heavily against the faux wood floors as I head to my kitchen. I’m going to miss this composite flooring. It’s perfect for an apartment. It looks just like real wood but can take a beating. There’s no evidence of the furniture I dragged across the living room that would’ve gouged real wood. No discoloration from the coffee or the nail polish I’ve spilled. It never shows a scratch, blemish, or stain. Absolutely beautiful…and fake.

I’m rummaging in my fridge for a drink to wash down my little purple horse pills of relief, when my phone goes off again. It’s so loud I can hear it from the bedroom. But this time it’s a ring instead of a chime.

After snagging my AirPods off the counter, I tuck the left earbud in and double-tap, playing my little version of Russian Roulette by not knowing who’s calling. I refuse to let myself hope it’s Adam.

No way it’s him. He made his intentions pretty clear.Just friends.My logical brain says he’s right. He would’ve absolutely been taking advantage of me in a vulnerable moment. But all my wounded ego can think is,what an asshole.When a lady asks you to throw her one, just do it, for fuck’s sake.

“Hello?”

I already know who it is by the furious keyboard clicking on the other end of the line. “Sorry. Just give me one more minute. Wrapping up a…” Quinn trails off, not finishing her thought.

I give her thirty seconds as I wash the Pamprin down with a swig of orange juice right from the jug. In fact, I’m walking around in my underwear, no bra, with a ratty tank top I’ve had since college. Here is the upside to making yourself a recluse—manners and presentable clothes are always optional.Don’t mind me, just living my best life.

Once my patience has run thin, I slam my fridge door, intentionally making all my glass goods rattle.

“Shit! That’s loud. You’re on speakerphone, Mani.”

“Quinn, never mind the fact thatyoucalledme. Would you like me to try you back when you’re not so busy?”

It’s not intentional. Quinn is a workhorse. She has been since the day I met her freshman year. I’ve always admired her work ethic and her business savvy. I think that’s why I palled around with her so much and jumped at the chance to become her roommate. I was hoping some of the Quinn magic would rub off on me.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says. “You’re right. Work is insane today, and I’m still waiting on news about everything.”

“That’s right! Your promotion. What’s the verdict?”

Quinn has been working her ass off at her dad’s company since her junior year of college. She earned her way up the ladder, refusing to slide into her success because of her last name. Everything she’s worked toward for a decade is about to come to fruition, in the form of a promotion to Chief Marketing Officer of one of the biggest tech security systems in the world.

“It’s looking good. There are a few more hurdles to clear before it’s mine. My dad won’t officially announce me as CMO until I see some projects through. I need the third quarter earnings report before I can show the major ROIs from the plans I implemented—”

“I have an idea,” I say, cutting her off before she starts diving into business jargon that I don’t have the patience to decipher. “When you make the cover of Forbes magazine, you should wear a hot-pink dress. I know they like to stick women in navy pantsuits on the cover, but it’d be the ultimate form of rebellion, you know? Show the world that you are one of the most intelligent, powerful, business-minded, women on the planet, butdressed like Barbie.”

She scoffs. “How many pink things do I have in my closet, Mani?”

I rack my brain for a moment. “Three. The Chanel clutch—”

“Nope, it’s been four years and Reese still hasn’t given that back. I’m going to assume it’s hers now.”

“Fair enough. Then, two pink things. That crystal necklace I bought from Minerva the first time I dragged you to go see her—”

She interrupts me with an audible shudder. “I canstillfeel the cobwebs. That lady was so fucking creepy.”

“Don’t judge.”

“I’m not. There are plenty of psychics who don’t operate from a crypt.”

Utter exaggeration.Minerva just had a particularly stale, dingy basement, and yes, she needed an industrial-sized dust buster to handle her home, but she was the sweetest little lady. I’ve always loved psychics. I just like the idea of there being something more out there we can connect with. When it seems like the world is on fire, and people are failing you, it’s nice to think there’s somethingmore.

After Quinn’s mother passed years ago, she didn’t sleep for weeks. And she didn’t cry. She said she wanted to, but she justcouldn’t. She was in shock, mixed with guilt and exhaustion—a painful little cocktail of self-loathing. Quinn seemed to go numb in response.

All of our best friends tried something to help. Noa cooked an entire fridge-full of meals and it was actually the rest of us who ended up gaining a few pounds from all her baking. Quinn barely poked at her food. Addie clung to her like a loyal golden retriever and kept her distracted. Impressively so, she was the only one able to get a smile out of Quinn here and there. Reese, the only other member of our group of five who is able to understand business jargon, seeing as she speaks fluent legal jargon, responded to some of Quinn’s urgent work emails. She even ran reports so Quinn could get some rest. But no matter what we did, she still couldn’t sleep or cry. She couldn’t feel.

Eventually, I dragged her to Minerva for a reading, mostly as a joke, but by the time we left, Quinn was bawling. I think it was more from exhaustion than anything, but still, she slept for nearly two days straight afterward, so I call that a win.

“You call her creepy, but you kept the necklace.”

She’s silent for a beat. “Yeah, I love you that much. But case in point, that’s the only pink thing I own.”

“Wrong. Your thruster is hot pink. The one with like twenty vibrating patterns. The one you keep in your nightstand drawer.”

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