“Too late.” She dumped the bags onto the kitchen counter before trying to squeeze herself in between the back of the couch and Alice.
“You could just sit next to me.” Alice frowned, moving over, barely hanging on to the edge of the couch.
Feenie bared her teeth and twitched her nose. “How are you feeling? Better?”
“Yeah. I’ve calmed down. Some.”
“Ooh, that sounds ominous. Think you can make it through a conversation tear-free or do you need more time?”
“I’m tired, so probably not. What’s new with you?”
Feenie had dropped out after one tenuous semester at Bowen, had a gigantic fight with Ryan about it (which resulted in them nearly breaking up), and currently felt smothered within an inch of her life by her parents (even though they lived ten hours away). She worked at a piercing-and-tattoo shop as a receptionist with no long-term life plans apart from marrying Ryan after his graduation.
“Nothing to talk about really.” Feenie shrugged.
Alice’s phone chimed—Aisha’s name flashed on the screen. “Hey! Give it back.”
“Nope. It’s Feenie time.” She pressed Ignore. “What does she want?”
“Well,nowshe’ll want to kill me. Thanks.”
Feenie laughed. “I’ll be sure to sing theUpper Roomat your funeral. Just call her back later.”
“I don’t want to call her at all, but I was going to answer.”
“I got you, boo.” She said each word as she typed: “Dear—Aisha—I’m—Alice’s—favorite—so—fuck—off—for—the—next—hour—”
“Don’t you dare send that!” Alice lunged for the phone. Feenie pulled back, but the couch provided a bit too much spring, launching them onto the floor.
“Ow.My boobs,” Alice whined. “Get off.”
Feenie laughed, rolling onto her stomach. She slid the phone across the floor where Glory promptly chased it.
“Why did you do that?” Alice tried to crawl away.
“NOPE.” Feenie pounced on her like a bear cub learning how to wrestle. She locked her arms around Alice’s waist, flipping her over and wrapping her legs around her thighs. She kissed her forehead too many times to count.
Alice squealed some wordlike sounds before dissolving into a fit of giggles.
“Because you’re mine and I refuse to share,” Feenie said. “Say it!”
“NO, DAMN IT!”
“Say it or I start tickling you,” she threatened.
“Okay. I will.” Feenie stopped, but then Alice said, “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“Wrong answer.”
Five minutes later, Alice’s abs began to hurt from screaming/laughing/crying so hard from Feenie’s tickle attack. “Okay!” she gasped. “Okay. I love you the most!”
“Was that so hard?” Feenie asked. “I made you laugh.”
“You’re an asshole.” She wiped her happy tears away, trying to catch her breath.
“The very best.” Feenie lay down next to Alice but kept one of her legs slung over her.
“Can we get back on the couch?”