Page 47 of David's Love

I pick them up.

“Lots of adults?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” she murmurs, running her fingers through her hair and brushing it all back.

“Nothing. I just wanted to know how to dress for the party.”

“Pick a nice costume. We’ll have the kids' party first and then spend some time together with the adults.”

Chloe pulls the drape to the side.

They greet each other, and my eyes go to my friend.

“We have customers,” she says to me before shifting her attention to Rain.

“We were talking about the Halloween party,” Rain says, and Chloe looks at me.

“You know about it…” I murmur.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah,” she says, moving her focus to Rain.

“We’re having a party for the adults as well,” Rain clarifies, and I know Chloe well.

She’s thinking what I was thinking moments ago.

“It’s no longer at Thea’s house?” Chloe mumbles, her eyes sliding to me.

“No,” Rain says while I witness the exchange.

“Sounds cool,” Chloe tosses at her, phony like a punctured condom. “Okay. Well.” She looks at me. “We’ll see you on Thursday then.”

My eyebrows go up.

“Yes. On Thursday,” Rain murmurs, and moments later, Chloe and I leave the fitting room.

I’m convinced that she’s already made up her mind.

8

ELIZABETH

Thursday

I pickthe worst moment to tell Chloe I won't go to her party.

I wanted to tell her last week in the store when Rain talked about her Halloween party. But then we ran into Eve and chatted about other stuff.

On Saturday night, Chloe and I went out, but things weren’t the same. She seemed distracted, and I couldn't focus on anyone in the club.

We ended up in a diner where we ate hush puppies, scrambled eggs, and pancakes topped with whipped cream and maple syrup.

She seemed downcast for some reason, and I couldn’t make myself bring it up to her.

I knew then––as I know now––that she wouldn’t buy my story and, for sure, like the idea of me not going to her party.

She probably would’ve wanted to know what was so important that I couldn’t share with her.

So, I’m trying to break it up to her now.

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