Page 134 of Scoring Lessons

“You called them?” I groaned. I didn’t want to face anyone.

When she opened the door, Kennedy and Aurora waltzed in with snacks and bottles of tequilas, wearing pairs of ridiculous pajamas.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I blurted as they dropped the things on the small kitchen island.

Kennedy turned with a cross of her arms. “That’s fine. We’re just here to drink and talk shit about men.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please,” I muttered. “You’re in the best relationship I’ve seen.”

“Sickening, really,” Valentina quipped. “And I love love.”

Kennedy flipped her voluminous curls with a scoff. “You think I’m on speaking terms with your brother? After the shit he pulled last night?” She reached the neon-pink plastic shot glasses she’d brought and poured us a few shots. “He will be sleeping on the couch until further notice.”

I gaped at her. “Are you serious?”

She handed me a shot, and I took it and swung it back without much thought. I grimaced at the steady burn that traveled from my throat to the pit of my stomach.

“Mm-hmm. Believe me, I’m as pissed as you are.”

My eyes welled with tears, and I let out an unwilling pout, trying to keep the tears at bay. “You don’t have to do that, you know? You don’t have to fight with him because of me.”

She took a shot without so much as making a face then gripped my shoulders and settled me with the most serious stare I’d received from her. “You, Olivia Anderson, are not only one of my best friends, but I also consider you a sister.” She looked around, her eyes settling on Aurora and Valentina. “You all are. And when you’re hurting, or mad, or whatever—I am, too.” She clapped her hands twice, like she was dusting them. “And there’s that.” She picked up the tequila bottle and raised it. “So for tonight, fuck men and their shitty attitudes.”

“What she said!” Aurora said, raising a shot glass.

Valentina and I looked at each other, then she gave me a shrug and grabbed two shots and handed me one. “Okay, then!”

For the first time that day, I genuinely laughed. I laughed through the heartbreak, the what-ifs, the unbelievable ache I felt in my chest knowing Wesley and I were over.

“Amen,” I said through a teary laugh before I took yet another shot.

It was probably three in the morning when we finished eating our weight in all kinds of comfort foods you could think of.

We’d ordered everything from pizza to the best tacos from the city, and when Aurora said she was craving Indian and ordered it, I shed some drunken tears as I ate the samosas because they reminded me of Wesley.

We weren’t really drunk anymore. More like tipsy. The type of tipsy where you could have a heart-to-heart with the wall.

I stared at the wooden panels as we lay on the gigantic colorful rug Valentina had in her living room, cups and half-empty takeout containers scattered around us. It smelled like fried food and the smoky barbecue Aurora had decided to order last minute, then proceeded to cry over as she worked through a rack of baby ribs.

Safe to say, we were a mess for a minute there.

“Is this what true heartbreak feels like?” I asked no one in particular. “I’ve never been in love. Not really. I don’t think I even loved Jack the way I loved—” A shaky exhale. I couldn’t even say his name. “You know.”

Kennedy propped herself up on her elbows and studied me, her eyes soft with something that looked like understanding. “You’re in love with him?”

I lifted both hands and shook them in a lazy surprise gesture.

Her fingers circled my wrists. She pulled, and I let her.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” she whispered.

I scrunched my nose as I stared up at the ceiling. “Not even a little,” I sighed.

“Sometimes it helps, you know?” Valentina said quietly, settling beside me.

“Then are you ready to tell us why you and Owens haven’t been seen together lately?” I asked.

She played with the hem of her pajamas and gave a small shrug. “We have some different opinions about a certain”—she cleared her throat—“thing.”