Page 121 of When In Doubt

And when the night ends, I realize I haven’t looked at the sky even once.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

FREYA

“You’re serious?” I squeal at the phone. Luci beams through the screen.

“Yup! Booked my tickets this morning!”

“Oh my god!” I can’t believe it. She’s actually coming! I drop the laundry I’m holding and sit down on my bed with a thud. I called Luci to keep me company while I was cleaning my apartment, but she immediately derailed things with her surprise.

“I probably should have checked first, but I saw the flights were on sale and figured I should jump on it.”

“No, of course you don’t have to check. You’re welcome whenever!” I’m so happy I could burst. I’ve missed her so bad.

“Well, I gotta check on you after you were nearly BURNED ALIVE.” She presses her face against the camera, emphasizing the last words.

“Argh,” I groan. “We’ve been through this a hundred times. It was nothing! It wasn’t even in my apartment!”

“You were evacuated by hunky firefighters and you didn’t even tell me until three days later.” She huffs. She was not happy when I finally came clean, and she hasn’t let me forget it.

“The worst thing that happened was that I got a scratch on my foot from running into the parking lot without shoes.”

“Yeah, a secret scratch.” She scowls. “A scratch you didn’t even tell me—your best friend—about.”

“Christ, you’re nearly as bad as Oscar.” I sigh. I don’t need two overprotective weirdos in my life, I’ll end up spending my days bundled up in bubble wrap.

“You clearly need somebody keeping an eye on you!”

I wince. I know she’s joking, but it’s still not fun to hear.

“How is that man of yours anyway?” she continues.

A twist of unease starts behind my ribs. “I don’t know if he’s my man, exactly.”

“In what way?”

“We just haven’t really talked about it.”

“Really? From everything you’ve said, I thought it was getting serious?”

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t know.” I fall back onto the mattress, dragging my hand over my face.

“But you like him.”

“Yeah, he’s great...” I trail off.

“And he’s good to you?”

“Of course.” I roll onto my side, holding the phone close, like I’m about to whisper a secret. Which, I suppose I kind of am. “I met some of his friends the other day, and they were all acting like we’re together already.” It felt like it had already been settled, like I didn’t get a say.

“But, you kind of are together?”

“Yeah. But not like, officially.”

She frowns. “I think that’s just semantics.”

“It’s important!” I protest.