Page 35 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
“It’s harsh,” Rachel said, waving a hand. “But I’m going to level with you. They’ve always been self-involved, and I can say that because I’m self-involved, too. We can spot our kind in the wild.”
“That’s impressive, I guess. I’ve been feeling like a loser lately, and just when I started to get my footing with this new business, bam. Right back to Loser Central.”
“Ella Baker, look me in the eyes.” Reluctantly, she did. “You’re not a loser. You’re the most awesome person I know. The one human whom I can depend on, and laugh with, and simply chill next to for hours on end. No one makes me feel as comfortable or like myself as you.”
Those words were in such need at that moment. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Her silly little emotions welled up again.
Rachel slapped her knee. “And you can stand on your head and sing the alphabet backwards. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that duplicated.”
“I appreciate you acknowledging that,” she mumbled.
“Now go put on leggings or sweatpants. Ditch your bra. We are going to eat so much popcorn on that couch and watch whatever the hell you want while we bash Ben.”
That perked her the hell up. “What am I gonna do if I ever meet this guy? Will he know all the shit I’ve talked about him?”
“No. He’s the most oblivious crumb of a person. He thinks he invented cool socks. Like the ones with the loud, colorful designs that people have been wearing for the last eight years. Credits himself.”
“Dammit, Ben. You did not invent loud socks.”
Rachel waited in front of the microwave while the bag inside rose up like a sleeping giant stirring awake. There would be buttery goodness soon, and she could wallow properly. The microwave beeped, and as Rachel dutifully assembled their feast, Ella threw herself onto her back and checked her email. Ithad become an obsessive habit since the faithful day she was laid off. She blinked at the top of her inbox and sat right back up.
“I think I just sold a cover. One of the first four pre-mades I listed on the website.”
“What?” Rachel asked, swiveling. “How do people already know about you? Did you not just design that website a minute ago?”
“I ran a cheap little Instagram ad targeting romance authors. It cost exactly nine dollars and look!” She turned her phone around in victory. “It sold me a cover, and I didn’t list them for cheap. Do you know how many groceries I can buy now? This is amazing.” She stood on the couch and began walking its length back and forth like a wrestler who’d just trounced an opponent.
“I like the new, triumphant you.” Rachel put a hand on her hip. “Things turn around fast in this house.”
She dropped down onto her ass with a happy bounce. “I need to make more covers since it looks like this idea might just take off.”
Rachel held out the bowl. “Do you want popcorn first or …”
“Oh, the popcorn is required fortification before I can create.”
As they watched loud game shows from twenty years ago while wearing pajama pants and worn-out T-shirts, Ella let her mind drift. She looked forward to telling the Weepers about her sale, and specifically imagined Max’s face softening to a grin, a sight to behold. She touched her cheeks, half realizing that they were warm.
“What is going on in that head of yours?” Rachel asked.
“Me?” She sat up straight, moving herself guiltily right out of the daydream. “I was just fantasizing about my new little job and all the ways I can spend the lavish sums of money I’m going to rake in.”
“You can buy your own grapes now,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes.
“Right. Thank God.”
Rachel shook her head, ponytail swishing in judgment. “I still can’t believe she did that. How desperate for attention do you have to be?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t necessary.” Inside, alarm bells sounded. She looked over at Rachel, the one person who had never let her down. She thought of Max and the grapes and the kernel of hope she’d been sheltering. She couldn’t hold onto both. How was she supposed to stay away from Max when all she wanted to do was not stay away from Max? At the same time, she absolutely refused to throw her friend under the bus.
“Hummus!” Rachel yelled, startling Ella right out of her crisis of conscience. “Hummus!”
“What?”
“It’s the answer to the question,” she said, popping an M&M and gesturing to the TV with her chin. She’d forgotten all about the supermarket game show they’d been watching.
“I do love hummus,” she said, attempting to rejoin the here and now.
“I have some in the fridge.” Rachel hopped up, squeezing Ella’s shoulder as she passed. She paused, fridge door open. “You know, I’m not the sentimental type, but I’m really happy you decided to move to Everly Springs.”
