Page 52 of Cream and Punishment
I gulped. There were some people you never messed with if you knew what was good for you: nurses, morticians, and librarians.
Satisfied I was paying attention, Annie continued over the buzz of the restaurant. “When Lex needed help with getting us fitted for our bridesmaid dresses, who stepped up?”
I shifted in my seat, the vinyl cushion squeaking under my jeans. “I did?”
“Yes. You did. You had an insanely busy day, yet you carved out time and coordinated with us to make sure we all made it.” Annie sat back and crossed her arms, the black leather of her jacket shiny in the light. “And when Hattie needed help picking up a donkey suit for some forsaken reason, who helped her?”
“I did.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “But you all would’ve done the same if you could’ve.”
Annie clapped her hands together, the explosivewhap!making me and Kris jump and drawing the attention of most of the college coeds. “That’s exactly my point! Dude, if you truly believe we would do the same, why won’t you trust us enough to ask and give us the chance to?”
“We’d love to show you how much we care about you more often, but it’s hard to when you don’t let us help you,” Kris joined in now. “We can’t be there for you if you never let us know where you are.”
I frowned. They felt like I was depriving them of chances to show their love?
WasI?
“I got myself into this mess, though,” I argued, my voice weak even to my own ears. “It wasn’t your fault I hurt myself, so why bother you with my own natural consequences?”
“Well, depending on how you look at it, it could be my fault you got hurt,” Hattie pointed out. She pushed her gold spectacles higher up her nose. “You wouldn’t have been on those stairs in the first place if I hadn’t asked for your help.”
“Dekker” —Lex set her elbows on the table and leaned in to be heard better over the other patrons from her seat at the end of our table— “do you really think that you asking for help or advice or who-knows-what-else is abotherto us?”
I only shrugged in reply.
Kris’ eyebrows pulled together. Her lips formed a pout that contrasted sharply with her bright yellow dress and hairbows. “It kind of hurts that you would think that about us. We’re notthathorrible.”
“No, that’s not it,” I rushed to assure her. “It’s just that—”
I cut off as the weight of her words sank in.It kind of hurts that you would think that about us.That wasn’t what I thought at all.
Right?
Something shifted in my head, rotating like a kaleidoscope until a myriad of colors burst into life and cast everything in a new light. Something finallyclicked.
By being so convinced I annoyed them, I’d inadvertently cast them as the villains. The cruel townspeople ready to throw the beggar out. They’d never done anything to make me doubt their friendship, yet my own insecurities had projected my fears onto them until I believed it was reality. Irrefutable truth. No benefit of the doubt. Just judge, jury, and executioner toward people I loved.
I’d been so afraid of being left behind that I’d pushed them away before they could get the chance to leave me. Anything to make it hurt less when they finally came to their senses. But if I never let them in enough to care, what reason would they have to stay?
“You’re right,” I finally admitted. For the second time today, tears pressed tiny needles into the back of my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.”
Kris smiled softly and rested her hand on mine. “We know you didn’t. Just… you don’t have to go through things alone, you know.”
I snorted, the memories of Max carrying me and helping me in the bakery coming to mind. “I’m learning that. The hard way, evidently.”
“The way we all tend to learn things,” Hattie added with a smirk.
“I’ll toast to that,” Lex agreed. She tapped her glass against Hattie’s, which set off a round of cheers among the whole group.
The rest of girls’ night passed in a happy blur of food and laughter. I soaked it in, content to observe in the background until something Kris mentioned on our way out of the restaurant caught my attention.
“Wait, what did you say about your sister?” I prodded, positive I’d misheard her.
“Oh” —Kris held the door for a couple entering Ready Player Two— “she just got diagnosed with ADHD.”
So Ihadheard correctly. But that still couldn’t be right. I’d met Kris’ sister at Kris’ birthday party. We’d hit it off pretty well, actually, especially when talking aboutThe Great British Bake-Off.Not once during the night had she ever seemed like the picture of hyperactivity that came to mind when ADHD was mentioned.
My disbelief must have shown on my face, since Kris laughed. “I know, I was surprised, too. But apparently it looks super different in adult women than young boys, and since young boys have been the main research demographic for basically ever, most people are just as clueless as I was.”
