Page 90 of That's Too Pucking Bad

Throwing on a pair of soft flannel pants and an oversized hoodie, I drop onto my bed. My hair’s still damp, clinging to my neck, but I don’t care. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I groan, reaching for it.

“Maya?” I answer, confused.

“Hey,” she says, her voice hesitant. “I’m outside. Can we talk?”

I blink, sitting up. “Outside? Like… here?”

“Yeah.”

I grab a pair of fuzzy socks. “Okay, I’ll be right out. Give me a second.”

Maya is leaning against her car, her arms crossed and her face set in that weird mix of nervous and determined. As soon as she sees me, she walks up and pulls me into a hug.

“I missed you,” she says, squeezing me tight.

I let her hug me for a second before stepping back. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“You ghosted me,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Over Zane. Do you even realize how shitty that was?”

“Remy, I—”

“No, don’t ‘Remy’ me.” My voice rises, and I point a finger at her. “You were supposed to be my best friend, but the second Zane came into the picture, you bailed. What the hell, Maya?”

Her face crumples, and she sighs. “You’re right. I screwed up. Big time. I was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever’s going on with you two.”

“That’s bullshit.”

She winces, looking genuinely guilty. “You’re right. It is. I’m sorry, okay? No boys before girls. Ever. That’s the rule.”

I huff, still annoyed, but a tiny part of me softens.

She reaches out, pinky extended. “I swear. From now on, no more ditching you. Not even for a hot hockey player with psycho tendencies.”

I roll my eyes but hook my pinky around hers. “You owe me big time.”

“Deal.” She grins, then tilts her head, studying me. “You okay, though? Like… really?”

I shrug, avoiding her gaze. “It’s pretty complicated, Maya.”

“When isn’t it?” she mutters. Then, with a brighter tone, “Hey, want to go to a movie? My treat. We can watch something stupid and eat overpriced popcorn.”

I hesitate, glancing back at the house. “I guess. But I need to change.”

“Cool. I’ll wait.”

Maya follows me to my room, flopping onto my bed like she’s been here a hundred times.

“Still obsessed with Taylor Swift, I see,” she teases, nodding toward the speaker.

“Don’t judge,” I shoot back, rifling through my closet. “Her music is therapy.”

“Uh-huh.” She rolls onto her stomach, watching me. “So, what’re you gonna wear? Something sexy?”

“For a movie? Yeah, no.” I pull out a pair of jeans and a fitted sweater, holding them up. “This work?”

She nods approvingly. “Casual but cute. I dig it.”

---