Page 7 of The Fangirl and the Grump

“There was an owl hooting right outside my window all night,” Madison adds in a sour voice.

“I slept okay,” Pressley says.

“Well, fucking good for you,” Madison snaps.

God, Madison is even bitchier than usual. She’s never been a morning person, but this is extreme, even for her. Hopefully, she’ll tone down the nastiness once she has some coffee in her.

“What are we supposed to do today?” she asks as she slides into the chair next to mine. “I need to find a store to buy some disinfectant spray. I definitely felt bedbugs crawling on me last night.”

“We can stop on our way to the tour bus,” Pressley offers, but Sloan is already talking over her.

“Madison, there are no bedbugs. And even if there were, you wouldn’t feel them crawling on you. You’d just wake up to bite marks on your ass.”

Like Sloan didn’t even speak, Madison stares at Pressley in horror. “Tour bus?”

“That’s why we’re here, Mads,” I say gently, hoping to diffuse the situation. “To take the tours and explore the locations of our favorite movies?”

Madison levels a glare at me over the rim of her mug. “Yourfavorite movies, you mean. I’ve always thought they’re ridiculously corny.”

I know that. But, Jesus, couldn’t she even pretend? For my sake?

“Then why did you even come?” Sloan snaps as she takes the last empty chair at the table.

“I came to support myfriendwho lost her jobandher boyfriend on the same day.”

I flinch at the blatant and crass reminder. Carter Hawthorne was my boyfriend for three years. In the beginning, things were great. He was affectionate and loving. He wanted to take care of me, and even convinced his brother, Parker, to hire me as an executive assistant at their family’s PR firm. The job was entry level with the opportunity to eventually move up the ranks.

I should’ve known something was off when I was passed over every time there was an opening to help come up with pitches for new clients, but Carter and Parker always assured me I just wasn’t quite ready yet. That I’d get to help with the next one.

I pretended like it didn’t hurt. I also pretended everything was fine when I could feel Carter drifting away from me.

Coming home late with no call, text, or explanation. When we stopped having sex, I told myself he was tired from all the long hours. When he quit kissing me goodbye, I decided perfunctory kisses were stupid, anyway.

The last straw was when he stayed out all night and came home smelling like stale booze and weed. I demanded he tell me where he’d been all night, and he told me to fuck off.

I waited for hours for him to sleep it off so we could talk it out, but when he finally emerged from the bedroom, nothing had changed. He had this dead look in his gray eyes I’ll never forget.

He told me it was over and had been for a long time. That he had never really been physically attracted to me, and he’d settled because he thought having a steady relationship would look good to the firm’s clients. He was able to fake it, for a while, but grew to despise my fat ass and chunky thighs. And now that he’s a full partner and going places in the world, he has better options.

Oh, and by the way, I cleaned out your desk at the office and threw everything away. Your services are no longer needed, in any capacity.

His tired voice still rings in my ears, the hurtful words making my eyes sting.

Pushing all of it aside, I clear my throat and refocus on the conversation around me. Madison must’ve made some kind of smartass remark, because Sloan is rolling her eyes and Pressley looks like she’s about to cry.

As I watch them, I realize something. Even though the friendship between us has always been all snark and sass and prickly crabgrass, things have never beenthiscontentious. Sure we have strong opinions and even stronger disagreements. Some might even call us frenemies. But at the very core, we love each other. We take care of each other.

Something strange is going on here. Something under the surface I’m not aware of. There has to be.

Madison and Sloan are acting out with extreme bitchiness, especially toward each other. And Pressley looks like she might throw up at any given moment. And though they planned this whole trip to cheer me up, it seems like Pressley is the only one actually doing the cheering. The other two seem resentful of even being here.

Madison grumbles as she stands, announcing that she’s headed into the shower. The tense moment ends, and Pressley starts chattering about the bus tour and all the stops we’ll hit today. Sloan sits in silence, sipping her coffee before getting up without a word and leaving the room.

“Pressley,” I say cutting off her stream of words, “what’s going on with them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think they seem a little off?” I ask, sure she’s noticed it.

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