CHAPTER 1
MAGGIE
“On a scaleof one to ten, how much do you love me?” My best friend poses the question about two seconds after opening her apartment door and giving me a hug.
“Um…so much,” I answer. “Like, four-hundred and thirty-seven out of ten. Like, more than I love dark chocolate peanut butter cups.”
“Wow.” She beams because she knows they’re my one true love. Their sweet and salty goodness has never let me down, which is a lot more than I can say for some of the people in my life.
But not Vivian McDonald.
She’s been my best girl, ride-or-die, and partner-in-crime since kindergarten.
So, yeah. She ranks right up there with the holy union of peanut butter and dark chocolate.
Stepping back, she lets me into her new place. It should look like every other bland, standard-issue college apartment: cheap oak-colored cabinets, featherweight furniture, muted beige everything, and thin, scratchy carpeting.
But it’s Viv’s place, so it’s an explosion of rainbow colors. From the oversized teal pillows to the sunshine-yellow wallhanging, it’s all Viv. It’s also still full of unpacked boxes, but I can’t judge because she literally just moved in this morning.
I follow her into the kitchen space where she scurries around the counter, reaches down into a box on the floor, then turns back toward me. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
“Um…”
“Mags,” she says, putting her hand on her hip and leveling me with a look. “I know exactly where you were on the night before your sixteenth birthday when you told your Gam and Pop you were spending the night at my place, and I have never told a soul.”
See what I said about ride-or-die? I close my eyes and hold my hands in front of me like I’m back in grade school at Wednesday morning mass taking communion.
“Open!”
I look down at my hands to see the clear plastic tub of my dreams. The brown and red lettering tells me Viv wants a really big favor. These are not the commercial brand. Oh, no. Viv went all out and got me the Midnight Choco Cups that I’ve only ever found at a little market near our high school.
“You got me the family size? Either you really missed me, or you want to name my firstborn.”
Viv smiles, and it’s easy to see why she’s the top girl on the pyramid. Not only is she five-foot-nothing and a hundred pounds of muscle and pep, but she lights up a room with that competition-ready grin.
“Oh. My. God. How freaking cute would Baby Baylor be?” She practically has stars in her eyes, which is laughable. I haven’t had sex in months, and I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon. I’m done with relationship drama because, in my experience, no dick is ever worth the trouble it causes.
New year. New school. New me. No dicks.
That’s my motto. But I can tell Viv’s got a list of baby names running through her head right now. She’s approximatelyhalfway through the alphabet when she blinks and forces herself to focus.
“So…you can totally say no, but…”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Our very best adventure stories
start that way. Ok, Viv. What am I totally not going to say no to?”
“I know it’s movie night. I even have the snacks and the blankets. And I am totally good with movie night. One hundred percent. Because I haven’t seen you since Christmas and even though we’ve talked every day, it’s not the same. So, if you want to go with the original plan of a horror movie marathon while we plot the demise of The Traitor and The Tramp, I am totally fine with that.”
Viv definitely wants option B, whatever it is. I’m sure of that. But I also know with complete certainty that if I said I needed a night to cry into my tub of dark chocolate heaven and bitch about all the ways my ex-boyfriend and ex-roommate did me wrong, she’d cue up the movies and break out the wine coolers.
But, truthfully, I’ve spent way too many nights replaying the events of the last few months. And Viv’s listened to every sordid detail and every jaw-dropping update since the whole mess began last spring.
As much as I was looking forward to a night in with my best friend, I think a change of plans is just what I need.
“Or?” I prompt.
“Or…we could go to a party. It’s at Kappa. It’s totally low-key. Jake texted earlier and said he was down to hang out. I said I had plans and he said the more, the merrier. But we do not have to go. Hoes before bros and all that.”
