Page 12 of All That Glitters

“How was the library?” he asks, chipper as ever.

He’s sprawled out on our couch with the latest Pokémon game on the TV. When we first met, he told me he played video games. I pictured Call of Duty or Fortnite. Stuff my other friends played growing up. Nope. He says the point of video games is to de-stress, and those games do the opposite.

“Fine.”

I drop my backpack on the floor by the door, then slip off my sneakers.

“Did you see Marigold?”

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

I glare at him in reply and walk into the kitchen. Our shared suite is bigger than most dorms, in that it has a living room and kitchen, but it’s not big enough to be a true apartment either. You can have a conversation standing at the stove with someone in the living room without raising your voice.

“Best friends don’t lie to each other,” Nash teases, turning around on the couch to face me.

“I thought Porter was your best friend,” I say as I put water in our electric kettle.

“Make me a cup of chocolate mint, will you?” Nash asks, so I fill the kettle higher. “And he’s my best friend, too. You can have more than one.”

An image of Marigold holding out her pinky to me in the third grade comes to my mind.

“Promise I’ll be your only best friend forever,” she commands.

I laugh but wrap my pinky around hers. “I promise.”

She’d always been the possessive type. We had other friends, of course, but she made sure they knew who came first. A headache starts building behind my eyes.

“I saw her,” I say instead of continuing the ridiculous conversation about best friends.

“It didn’t go well.”

“I resent the lack of question in your voice,” I grumble as I pull out our box of teas.

Growing up, my mom made tea all the time. I got used to having it on a daily basis and kept it up even after leaving home. Marigold used to say that tea was for people too weak to drink coffee. But she’d still try the new blends my mom bought, just to make her smile.

I put a bag of chamomile in one mug and a chocolate mint in the other. Even though I’m exhausted, I have a feeling my jumbled thoughts are liable to keep me up without a little help to calm me down.

“When I saw her outside the arena, she looked madder than a hornet, so it’s hard for me to imagine that changing within just a few hours.”

I turn around and lean against the cabinets while waiting for the kettle to boil.

“I thought you left to go on a date.”

Nash grins. “No, I left because you were ready to wring my neck. I waited to see if I could get some information out of your dear Marigold, since you’re a vault of a man.”

I run a hand through my hair and sigh.

“I told you we would talk about things. Why did you bother her? No wonder she was extra upset tonight.”

“I know better than to think you’re going to tell me everything. Not that she told me anything either. You two are peas in a very secure pod.”

I give him an unamused look. The kettle beeps, so I turn to fill our mugs.

“I can leave her alone if it really bothers you. I just thought maybe if I knew more I could help. Be your wingman.” Nash’s tone turns a touch more sincere.

I set his mug down on the end table beside his arm, then head to sit on the opposite side of the couch. One of the throw pillows Nash’s mom got us smooshes under my weight.