Page 7 of The Design of Goodbye
I couldn’t stand her.
For the first time, I wished we weren’t friends.
I’d always dreamed of finding one of those “live for you or die for you” kind of friendships. But the dream of finding one was only ever that—a dream. My mom loved Jules, and my friendship with her was one of the few things that made my mom proud. So, I couldn’t let Jules go. Especially now.
Our names were called, and we grabbed our drinks. Like expected, Jules side-eyed mine as we walked back to our table.
“Pumpkin spice again?” she sneered. “It’s all sugar and carbs.”
“I don’t care.” I took a long sip, savoring the spicy sweetness.
I was lucky Buzz carried pumpkin spice lattes all year round because they were probably my favorite thing in the entire world. Currently, it seemed they were the only constant in my life. And one of the few things that still excited me. I wasn’t about to let her take that from me.
“How about you have some of my matcha? Remember all of—”
“The antioxidants. I know.” I stared at the table and muttered, “I had a bad day, okay? Give me a break.”
My comment piqued her curiosity. “Bad how? Did your mom call?”
“Not yet. She normally calls on Thursdays.”
The funny thing about lying? The more I lied, the easier it was. Lying was much easier than telling the truth—that I’d heard from my mom a total ofzerotimes since July.
“How’s Paris? Has she discovered any upcoming fashion trends?” asked Jules. “I need the inside deets.”
On top of the lying, there was incessant denial. Over the past three months, the most surprising thing I’d learned about grief was the denial stage could go on forever.
“Paris is fine.”
“When is she coming back?” asked Jules, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she positioned her cup of matcha in better lighting for a picture. She was obsessed with Whirl—the social media app she posted pictures and short videos to at least half a dozen times a day. “I hope soon. You were more fun to be around before she left.”
A familiar tightness grew in my throat, preventing a response.
Luckily, Jules wasn’t paying enough attention to notice and urged, “So, tell me, why did you have a bad day?”
“I have to be tutored in math.”
“Your dad seriously followed through?”
“Unfortunately.” I took a drink of my latte before admitting, “I met my tutor in Mrs. Webb’s office today.”
“Your tutor goes to our school?”
She was still taking pictures and not really listening. I was used to this. Most days, it was incredibly hard to get her full attention.
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
I hesitated, slightly scared of her reaction, but I couldn’t hide it from her forever. “Liam. The guy Tanner—”
Her phone clattered onto the table. “Liam Strom is going to be your tutor?”
I nodded and stared out the window. “I know you and Tanner hate him,” I said, watching a cute white dog cross the street, “but he can’t be that bad.”
“He is. He’ssoweird.”
“Weird how?”
