𝐗𝐈. stupid.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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CHAPTER ELEVEN.
stupid.



BELIEVE IT OR NOT, Lola has actually come to visit me off her own accord

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BELIEVE IT OR NOT, Lola has actually come to visit me off her own accord. I don't have any proof of her holding an ulterior motive; her crusty dog remains in its rightful home, so she can't extort me for free dog walks, and Rafe and Jason are both nowhere to be seen. It's just me and her, a door apart, breaths hitching on both parts as we're too nervous to reconcile the extinguished flame of our friendship. That is, however, none of my fault. I picked up every call of hers, can't say she did the same.

      I take one last, bitter glance through the peephole of my front door prior to unlocking it, pasting on a content smile as I anticipate a hug based on how Lola's eyes lit up when hearing the click of the handle. The sleeves of Jason's football jersey are bunched up in my hands, providing both warmth to console the discomfort I feel to the temperature of my house, and coverage to the fresh wounds that changed locations from my thighs. My arms almost outstretch when the barrier between us is broken, but stop once I notice a bizarre belonging in her hands.

      "Carmen," Lola grins, fluttering her eyelashes as she stares at my choice of loungewear, "I brought your favorite; red velvet with cream cheese frosting!" the baked good in her hold is identified, and her description of it as my 'favorite' strikes me with concern.

      Red velvet and cream cheese cake, or anything cake-like for that matter, was the food that fueled each of my binges. The meal that you all may associate with that was breakfast, where I'd consume an unholy amount of greased bacon, burnt toast, and orange juice, though sweet things were always what I chose when I was most upset with myself. Typically, whenever I was wronged by someone or dealing with a breakup, I'd order three tiers of pure frosting and sugar, and eat it all until throwing up became a necessity. It was the backbone to my ill health, and Lola knows this very well.

      "I'm on a diet," I object immediately, "but Steffie will love it. Here," I hold out my palms, awaiting for her to hand over the plate, "I'll box it up and refrigerate it."

QUEEN OF HEARTS ― jj maybank¹Where stories live. Discover now