Page 30 of First Comes Forever

I hold my breath as my eyes start to water. If Quinn had FaceTimed me from her cell phone instead of calling me from her office phone, the ruse would be over. She’d be on a flight immediately because I’d break right now in front of her. I’d tell her how I’m feeling the weight of social media, but I can’t stop now. Mom needs the money for her pain treatments, therefore I have to keep pushing through the toxicity, the anxiety, the ballooning depression. It’s just fucking feelings, not sticks and stones. I’m not allowed to break because of stupid online trolls. I’m stronger than that.

Or, I’mtryingto be stronger than that.

“No. I’m not. I promise.” The lie tastes so familiar on my tongue. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

“Yes.”

“I only believe you about seventy-five percent at the moment.”

“Eh, well,” I mumble, subtly covering up my sniffle. “C’s still get degrees.”

“All right, well, since you’re okay, can I catch you up on the gossip from last night?”

I open my pantry door, scouring for snacks. All I have are stale pita chips, fiber cereal, and the disgusting maca root chocolate cookies that organic snack brand sent me. They are offensively gross, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them away. Apparently, they are supposed to be somewhat of a libido booster. A cookie aphrodisiac. I swear, the random shit these people want me to help them sell.

“What gossip?”

“Guess who also missed girls’ night because their boyfriend is in town and moved in?”

Huh?Which of us has a boyfriend? Last I checked, me, Addie, Reese, and Quinn were painfully single—

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

My heart leaps out of my chest at the unexpected intrusion at my front door.

“Hang on,” I grumble to Quinn. “Either the world’s largest woodpecker is at the door or the police are here to collect me.”Who the hell knocks like that?

She must not hear me say hold on because she continues on about how “he moved and they are living together.”

I yank open the door at the same time I ask into the phone, “Wait, you’re talking about Noa? Who ‘moved in’ with her?”

It’s Adam who answers my question. “I’m assuming Chase,” he says simply, eyeing me up and down with a growing smirk.

Sucking in his lips, he averts his gaze. I look down to see what he’s alarmed about and when I can clearly see my nipples through my very see-through white tank top, I realize I answered the door with no bra and still in my cheeky underwear that barely covers a third of my admittedly bony ass. I cross my arms firmly over my breasts, covering up my visible nipples.

“Quinn, I gotta go.”

“Chase moved to Denver to be with Noa officially,” Adam continues to explain, as if I asked. “But seeing how close you and Noa are, I’m sure you know that already.”

Actually, no.I’ve been in bed for the past two days, trying to block out the world. “Right,” I lie. I’ll ask the girls questions,lots of questions,later. Right now, I’m wondering why the hell Adam is holding a key ring with a tiny bedazzled electric guitar, a sparkly pink key, and a car key fob decked out in pink rhinestones.

I point to his hand. “What are those?” I return the favor of eyeing him up and down now. I never realized how tall he is. I don’t remember him towering over me like this the other day.Was I wearing heels?“And why are you always in a suit? It’s Saturday.”

He ignores my second question. “Do you want to get dressed, first?”

Crossing my arms firmly over my breasts, covering up my visible nipples, I then narrow my eyes at him, remembering how peeved I still am from our last encounter. “I’m fine.” I nod to the girly keys in his hand. “Why do you have keys to Barbie’s dreamhouse?”

“These are for you.” He waggles the keys in my face. “A key to your new condo, a key to your new car, and a little electric guitar, since you’re so into death metal and all.” He flashes me a playful smile.

Smart-ass.He loves that he caught me in a lie. He probably knows my entire playlist history on Spotify is just Selena Gomez on repeat.

“Cute. But I already told you the other day—”

He holds up his hands, then clasps them together in a praying motion. “I’m an ass. I get it. And I’m very sorry.”

Huh?“Sorry for what?”

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