Page 50 of The Way We Fell

“Good job she’s cute.” Paloma throws an arm across Amie’s shoulders, and the other across mine as the four of us fall into step together. Ruth wraps an arm around my waist on my other side.

“Is she with your mum today?” I ask.

“Yeah, Mum’s taken her to the park. Cam’s home tonight, so hopefully she’ll chill out a bit.”

“She still acting out?”

“A little. Less acting out these days, more stubbornness and tears. She misses him and I hate it, but I don’t know what else to do. I miss him too.”

Paloma drops her head to rest on top of Amie’s as we walk.

“She’ll get there. I know she will. She’s a kid. She’s testing her boundaries and figuring out her emotions, I get that. I just wish she wouldn’t testmeso much.”

“At least she’s cute,” I laugh, echoing Paloma’s earlier sentiment, and Amie laughs too. “Come on, I need new notebooks and pens.”

“Like a fucking hole in the head,” Ruth mutters, just loud enough for us all to hear, and Paloma barks out a laugh.

“It’s forcollege,” I insist haughtily, and Ruth smirks.

“I still can’t believe you’re doing it,” she says. “I’m proud of you, Sweet Thing.”

“Thanks, Roo.” I reach for her hand and hold it tightly. Her approval means everything—it’s the one I’ve been most worried about. I daren’t tell her how the idea came about, from the friendship forged with her brother, because I know she’ll see my secret all over my face. She’ll see that I’m falling for him, for the one man in the world who is strictly forbidden.

I’ve always thought that Ruth—and Lo, and Amie—mean more to me than any man ever could, but the more I come to know Jay and to fall deeper into thiswhatever it isfor him, the more I’m wondering if it may not be enough anymore. If maybe, the right man could become more to me than my best friends. IfJaycould be that.

And so, I’ll tell a little white lie if Ruth ever asks. Because if I can’t have Jay, I’ll be damn sure to hang onto my best friends.

“Look, K, this one is so cute!” Paloma squeals, waving a notebook in the air towards me. Its cover is pale pink and covered with illustrated horseshoes, cowboy hats and cacti in a darker magenta shade. Itiscute. I wrap my fingers around a pink pen with a felt-wrapped cowboy hat on top and wave it back at Paloma.

“It’s perfect!” Amie calls out. “There’s a pencil case, too!”

Ruth strolls over with an armful of pink accessories—highlighters in various pink shades, pink sticky notes and tabs, and paper clips with cowboy hat decorations on them.

“Anyone would think you had a cowboy fetish,” she giggles, dropping the entire stack into the basket hung over my arm.

“Maybe I do.” I wink at her. “Give me a cowboy with an ass like a peach…”

“You know what they say,” Paloma says with a wink.

“What?” Amie asks, blinking innocently. “Something about riding horses?”

Paloma rolls her eyes and Amie pokes her tongue out as she grabs a dinosaur-themed notebook and pencil set.

These girls are my best friends. Thebestfriends in the world. No man could come between us. We wouldn’t let him.

“Speaking of cowboys,” Amie says, looking pointedly at Ruth after I’ve paid for my basket full of stationery.

“Yes!” Paloma cries, bouncing on the balls of her feet and clapping her hands lightly before grabbing Ruth’s arm. I smile fondly as I roll my eyes at her exuberance. “Tell us more about Cowboy Boo!”

Ruth bumped into her cowboy again, this time in Austin, a month after she met him in New York. It’s was one hell of a coincidence if you ask me—one that took half a bottle of wine to unravel when Ruth called me at Amie’s house a few nights ago whilst I was babysitting Maisy. This is the first time the four of us have been together for a while, and Amie and Paloma need to be caught up on the gossip.

“Can we have a margarita lunch?” Ruth asks. “Get me some tequila and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Promises, promises,” Amie laughs. She links one arm with mine and the other with Ruth, who grabs Paloma’s hand, and the four of us amble towards the mall’s food court and our favourite Mexican restaurant.

With a large plate of nachos on the table between us, and a cocktail each, Ruth passes her phone around the table for us to see the contact picture associated withEverett.

“Everett, huh? Sexy name,” Amie hums.

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