Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I tap my bare toes on the floor, debating whether or not to spill my guts about quitting my job. I was going to hold off on telling the roomies until after I told my parents—I’m a big believer in getting the worst part of any task over first—but with a new job already on the horizon…
“I may have fibbed about that a little,” I confess, folding a wing on one side of my napkin beetle.
“What do you mean may have fibbed?” Evie asks. “You never fib.”
“Yeah, you’re even more obnoxiously honest than I am,” Harlow agrees. “And what are you doing to your napkin? And can you teach me? I need something to do other than sit here or I’m going to go nuts. How were people sane before they were able to scroll their social feed with their morning coffee?”
“I’m not sure they were,” I say, biting my lip as I try to figure out how to tuck the beetle’s body under the wings without messing up the antennae. “And yeah, I can teach you. Just give me a second to see if I remember how to finish the last part.”
“You know I’m a big fan of arts and crafts at any time of the day,” Evie says, “but I’m going to need you to circle back around to the fibbing and what’s going on with Brain Chill.” She leans down, her curly blonde head hovering by my hands as she peers up at me with worried green eyes. “Are you okay? They didn’t fire you, did they? Because if they did, I think you should sue. They were working you way too hard. It had to have been illegal. Or at the very least immoral, and in a civil case, people might actually care about that.”
“Agreed,” Harlow says. “And one of the guys in my new study group has a brother who’s an employment attorney. He’s the guy who helped those women who were being treated like slave labor by their families in Queens get fair pay and back wages. He’s supposed to be really good, and I’ll help pay his retainer. I have a bunch of money saved from tutoring and those fuckers need to be taught a lesson.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Evie says. “I’ll chip in, too. I’m so pissed at those assholes.”
I glance up from the napkin, my chest tight with gratitude. “Have I told you lately that I love you? Like, a lot?”
Evie grins. “No, but of course you do. We’re amazing.”
“Though not as amazing as that guy you were making out with last night,” Harlow says, making my stomach cramp around my coffee.
Evie’s jaw drops. “What? What guy?”
“You were FaceTiming with Ian when it happened,” Harlow says. “But I saw it all. Our birthday girl was over in a dark corner chatting intently with that mysterious stranger in leather. And then she kissed him with loads of tongue.”
“It wasn’t loads of tongue,” I protest, crossing my arms over my churning stomach. “It was a perfectly normal amount of tongue. And he wasn’t a stranger.”
Harlow’s brows lift. “Oh, no? So now you have a secret boyfriend in addition to lying about your job? Who are you? And what have you done with Jess?”
I roll my eyes. “He isn’t my boyfriend. He’s…Sam. Sam,” I repeat when they both respond with blank looks. “From high school?”
Evie’s expression blooms with recognition, followed swiftly by shock. “What? That was Sam? Oh my God, talk about a glow-up. Holy shit, Jess, he is freaking hot!”
I wrinkle my nose and toss my mostly finished beetle at her chest. “Ew, stop. He is not.”
“Then why did you kiss him?” Harlow presses. “You already confessed you weren’t drunk, so that can’t be it. Was he blackmailing you? Refusing to give you the vintage nerd game he brought as a gift unless you massaged his tonsils with your tongue?”
“It’s the bargain, isn’t it,” Evie whispers, her eyes practically ablaze with excitement as she crouches in the chair opposite Harlow’s. “The one you told me about that one time. The one from when you guys were the only virgins at coding camp. And he remembered, and that’s why he was at your twenty-fourth birthday! Because he’s ready to go for it for real!”
“Okay, stop. Seriously.” Harlow’s lips push into a pout. “I’m legit upset now. Not even kidding. What is this bargain? And why didn’t you tell me about it? Have I been demoted to second-tier friend, Jessica? Is that what’s happening here? If so, I refuse to stand for it. I am first-tier friend material, and I can prove it. From now on, we’re having breakfast together on Monday mornings. I’ll go get food from that giant donut place you like and bring it back to you so you can gorge on sugar in your pajamas before you disappear into computer world for the week.”