“If you must,” she sighs, smiling as she takes a bite of pure cranberry sauce, her shoulders shimmying. “What is it?”
“I truly loathe turkey,” I say, dunking the flavorless meat into a tub of gravy. “It tastes like paper. I don’t know why it’s such a popular dish.”
“Well, youdostrike as a person whowouldknow what paper tastes like,” she teases. “Maybe you should go onMy Strange Addiction. Seek some help.”
“Oh, bugger off,” I grin, giving her thigh a little kick. “Be nice or I’ll take your precious cranberry sauce away.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Kennedy says, gripping her plate in a protective manner. “I’m much stronger than I look.”
I blink. “You’d fight me over cranberry sauce? Really?”
“In the words of Dr. Ross Geller ‘This cranberry sauce is the only good thing in my life’!” Kennedy exclaims, letting out a soft laugh. She frowns when I don’t react. “Oh my God, no.”
“What?” I ask, setting the plate down on the floor.
“You’ve seenFriendsbefore, right? Like the TV show?” she asks, distraught dancing in her eyes. “Please tell me you’ve seen it.”
“Actually, I haven’t,” I admit. “I mean obviously Iknowabout the show but I’ve never watched it.”
Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding right? It’s like one of the most iconic shows ever!” She shakes her head. “Well, I know what we’re doing for the rest of the day.”
“You gonna force me to watchFriendswith you?” I ask as she reaches over her shoulder to grab her laptop off of the bed.
“Yes, you’re my hostage,” she says, opening the computer and placing it on the edge of the mattress. She pulls up Netflix and queues up the first episode. She grins at me, excitement oozing from her pores. “I can’t believe I get to pop yourFriendscherry. This is so cool.”
“Your eyes are awfully wide, Carmichael. You’re frightening me a touch,” I tease as she sits beside me. “I take it this is one of your favorite shows?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, expelling a sigh. “It was my mom’s favorite show, we’d watch it together all the time. She used to joke that I’ll grow up to be Monica.”
“Is Monica neurotic or something?” I ask, cocking my head.
Kenny rolls her eyes. “Only like a little.”
“Thought so,” I laugh. “Your mum must be a very intuitive lady to predict that so early.” I pause before asking, “Do you miss her? Your mum?” Kenny’s face falls and I instantly regret my question. “Hey, sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”
“No, it’s fine,” she says in a low hum, picking at the food on her plate. “Umm...yeah I do miss her.” She takes a small breath. “A lot actually. She was my best friend and she just left. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye, I just got home from school one day and my dad said she was gone.”
“You haven’t talked to her at all?” I ask. “Not even a phone call?”
“Nope,” Kenny sighs. “My dad said she didn’t leave any contact information. She just vanished.”
“That’s really shitty, Ken,” I say, meeting her cloudy eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Really shitty.” She glances at me. “Do you talk to your mom? Is she as bad, as your dad?”
“My parents are—” I pause, uneasy creeping into my gut. “They’re just not my type of people.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, turning her body toward me. “What kind of people are they?”
“They’re just very uptight and pretentious and only care about themselves,” I explain. “My mom acts like she gives a shit about me, but she only cares about image and our family name.”
Kenny nods, releasing a quiet scoff. “Sounds likemypeople.”
I frown. “You’re not like them.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, her gaze distant. “I think I’m exactly like them. You’ve even said so yourself.”
“When?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.
