When peer pressure pushes Lenny to try out a new dating app, she starts to realize that the past may not always define the future.
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Lenny Harlow wants a lot of things, but a boyfriend isn't...
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"WHAT WAS THAT YOU TWO had going on yesterday?" CJ blurted that Friday afternoon, just after exiting the bathroom for the twenty-third time that day. My best friend nearly got alcohol poisoning simply because she could. If left to me, she would never have access to a single drop of liquor ever again.
I only had two lectures to attend-Dr. Chan's class was out of the question since she'd sent in the instructional material-and I was done for the day. CJ on the other hand had stayed in the entire time, nursing the world's classiest hangover and filling our toilet bowl with puke. She even projectile vomited all over my jumpsuit earlier.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Is your head okay?" I tore my eyes off the screen of my phone to give her a once-over. I'd preoccupied myself with Googling the word ableist for lack of a better pastime. I couldn't leave CJ, and Talia still wasn't able to attend classes or come over. Last night's drinking took a toll on everyone's system.
Plus, sitting here, ignoring priority responsibilities, and searching up meanings of the word Nash had dropped on me yesterday was a good distraction. It helped me not think about the kiss, about my reaction, and even the unusual radio silence from his end.
Yes, it had only been about ten hours, but that was a long time. I left him a couple of texts. He didn't even open them. And for what? A kiss gone wrong?
"Good fucking try," murmured CJ as she collapsed on her bed, one half of her body hanging off the side. She looked miserable, but she'd brought it upon herself. "Like, like, first you tell me there's nothing going on between you two, and then you shove your PDA right in front of all our faces."
Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my Googling. "I think all that liquid you lost is getting to your head. May I suggest a few glasses of water and a meal?"
CJ chucked a pillow my way. It was way off. "Fuck you. I know what I saw. You kissed him."
"No, I ran off like a coward."
"Still. That wasn't nothing."
"CJ, you're slurring. You're tired. You were drunk. You hallucinated." I cringed at how familiar my words were to my ears. It was basically an August tactic, only I was using it for a different reason. I didn't want to talk about Nash. I didn't even want to think about him. "And we did not kiss."
After a good minute, I heard a thud. CJ had fallen off the bed and was clutching at her stomach. Her eyes were shut. She groaned, rolling into her side. "I'm starving, Lenny, starving. Let's go to that Thai place."
Frustrated, I slammed my phone on the table. "I liked you better when you were unconscious."
Thirty minutes and a pit stop later, I walked into 'that Thai place' with CJ in tow. The aroma of spices hit me in an instant. It was one of the things about cultural food. I fucking loved cultural food. It was why I preferred Thanksgiving and Easter to any other holiday. When family came together, there was bound to be a huge feast, and without fail, at least five of our traditional dishes.
