Page 201 of Scrimmage

“Right,” she sniffles. “You’re right. It’s been hard. I’m tired, and handling Sinclair is like a giant fucking toddler getting into everything with zero emotional regulation.”

“I solemnly swear that I will not jump in front of a gun without your permission ever again.” I give her a big smile.

I think if I wasn’t sewn together in a hospital bed she would throw something at me. “That’s a lie, but I’ll accept it.”

I look around the room, mulling over my current situation. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Half dead and still being sarcastic,” she giggles. “It is though. Definitely embarrassing. You had a catheter.”

“Nevermind. I want to go back to being dead,” I whine.

“I’ve watched you pee in a urinal, hoe,” she points out.

It feels like I’m holding so much back and seeing Penny sitting here has made me realize how much I’ve missed her. I need her to keep my head straight, and that’s an unfair amount of pressure to put on a person. It’s as if she reads my mind.

“Ash, you’re my person. Don’t you dare get that self-loathing look on your face.”

“I love you, Penny.” The tears return. “More than you’ll ever know. You’re my fucking lifeline, and I don’t want it to be like that for you. I mean, you’re stuck here with me instead of doing the internship.”

“I can’t with your melodrama.” She rolls her eyes, tears shining on her cheeks. “Opportunities come knocking, and if they don’t, you always grab them by the back of their neck and threaten them until they do. That’s what best friends do. I’ve never ever been stuck with you. I’ve only ever hoped you’ll let me stay in your orbit.”

“I don’t want to drag you down,” I cry harder.

Penny gets up, gripping me in a time stopping hug. “You lift me the fuck up and somehow keep yourself up, too. You make me so fucking proud to call you my best friend, Ashland. Don’t ever say you’re dragging me down ever again. We’re different in the best ways. People are jealous because we’re fucking amazing. Cole was going to kill me because he was so jealous. Cunts of the fucking Century you stupid dumb cock sucking slut. Got it?”

I wipe my nose. “Got it.”

“Now let me fix your fucking hair while you tell me all of your woes. The Stylist is in the building.”

I giggle. “You’re not going to fix whatever roots have grown out with a hairbrush.”

“Sh,” she silences me. “I swear it’s not bad at all. Can barely see them. Now talk.”

I huff. “So Sinclair called Memphis?”

“More like angrily whispered at me what to say while he listened.”

“He made you do it?” I snicker. Little shit.

“Yeah. It was weird. I’ve never spoken to him before. His southern twang is worse than yours. Sinclair made me call him a sniveling soap dropping pussy.”

“Sinclair doesn’t remember, but Memphis wasn’t always this way.”

She grabs a brush and starts working through my hair. “You miss him?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you wanting to hear what he has to say.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“If you ever wanted to see him I’ll go with you. We can make a day of it. Don’t have to tell Sinclair if you don’t want to.” Leave it to Penny to make it sound like it’s not a big deal.

A comfortable silence falls over the room, only the beeping of my pulse driving me insane.

“Koda and I broke up,” I tell her.

She starts to braid my hair. “I don’t think he feels that way.”

---