Page 47 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
So maybe this time I didn’t get the chance to tell her about the bet. But I will. I have to. She can’t find out from anyone else.
I guess it’s just like Justin Timberlake said.
It’s gonna be me.
TWENTY
Etta
I’m still behind the steering wheel when my phone chimes on the seat beside me. Making sure the gear is in park, I grab it and grin. At this point, I would have thought I’d be used to having Zac text me, but it’s still new. It was only a mere two weeks ago I was comparing him to sandpaper.
My well-manicured fingers dance across my screen, tapping it to read the message.
ZAC:Are you free for breakfast? There’s something I want to talk to you about.
Normally, I’d see a text like this from someone, especially a guy, and my heart would immediately pack up and shut down. My stomach would turn and flip, then tie itself in a knot while I try to think through all of the possible horrible things that I could be about to find out.
This is different, though. I think Zac and I are way past that.
ME:Can’t today. At campground with girls. Want to do a late lunch or early dinner?
ZAC:I work tonight. Take three: how about a drink tomorrow night?
I stare out the windshield with a lopsided, goofy smile making its way effortlessly across my face. Yesterday’s coffee, he’s after a date for breakfast…which is now drinks tomorrow night. Whatever it is he has to tell me must be good if it can’t wait until our date night at the fundraiser.
ME:Perfect. Text me when and where to meet and I’ll be there.
A few moments later, Zac’s response appears on my screen…and it makes me roll my eyes so hard I think I may have strained an eyeball.
The thumbs-up emoji? Is he kidding?
Suffice to say the smile that was encroaching on my hairline has gone south at this point. I’m not a trend watcher and I’m certainly not what I call cool, but even I know that replying with a thumbs-up emoji can be a kiss of death. Not worth a smiley face and we’re not at the point where he can give me a heart, these are the parts of emoji talk which I speak. But a thumbs-up?
I’m still working out its meaning when I open my car door and climb out. Riley and Amelia, who had been chatting at the picnic table by the kitchen, have both hopped up to come greet me.
“You okay?” Riley’s brow is furrowed with concern.
Nodding my head, I give each woman a quick hug. “Me? I’m fine. Why would you ask?”
Amelia squints her eyes and places her hands on her hips as she takes me in. “Cause you look like you just smelled something bad.”
“Oh, no.” I wave a hand in the air, pushing away my little white lie. “I mean, I’ve got a lot on my mind, but that’s not why we’re here.”
Turning our attention to Amelia, Riley waves her phone in the air. “What’s up with your cryptic message this morning, Amelia?”
We have a group chat with all of us—me, Riley, Dylan, and Amelia—on it. I’ve been loving it that Dylan keeps us updated on her travels by treating us to photos and the occasional voice text, but this morning’s message from Amelia had me worried.
“Waking up to a text that says ‘Hi. Don’t ask me any questions, just come over when you can. Thanks.’ leaves a lot up to our imaginations.” I put an arm around her shoulders. “Areyouokay?”
“Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of things, but Spencer and I decided to officially separate at the end of this year.”
I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a bruise on my jaw from the force with which it hit the floor. When I look at Riley, I find her with her mouth in the same position.
“Please. Don’t.” Amelia holds a hand up before either one of us can utter a syllable. “I have a lot of unpacking to do around this, and I know I’ll need all of you by my side later in the year when this becomes reality, but right now it’s about something else.”
Locking eyes with Riley, I can see she is as full of questions as I am. I drag my gaze slowly over to Amelia, who stands with her arms wrapped around her middle looking tired and sad, but also like a weight’s been lifted. I know her well enough to know part of this is an act; she’ll be stoic and pretend everything is okay until she’s forced to handle it, and as her friend, I intend to do whatever it is she needs me to do to help her through it.
Even if it means we can’t really discuss “it” right now.
