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“What?!” she exclaims, taking her eyes off the road a second too long. She jerks the wheel back, and I grab for the door handle. “You can’t bail! I told all my friends about you, and they can’t wait to meet you.” She chances another peek at me with wide, pleading green eyes.
“I don’t feel good…” I trail off, looking out at the pink sunset over the flat desert.
“Are you missing him?” she asks.
She’s hardly questioned me about the distance between me and Adam, but I know she isn’t oblivious to it.
“Yes, but I feel like he’s probably going to break up with me when we get back.” I sigh, leaning back against the leather.
I see her shaking blonde curls in my peripheral vision.
“No way, absolutely not. He’s obsessed with you.” She pulls up to a red light, turning to face me. “I know something happened you aren’t telling me.”
Guilt twinges my gut.
“And I’m not going to lie and say your sadness lately doesn’t make me worry about you.” She hesitates, chewing on a nail. “You can share anything, in your time. Adam is one of the good ones, and I have no doubt in my mind about it.”
The green flashes in front of us, and her red Jeep accelerates.
“I just…I guess the real issue is his family. Yeah, my whole ugly history coming to his attention wasn’t my favorite thing, but it just reminded me how…tarnished I am. A good portion of the Midwest has seen me in lingerie, and his mom called me a harlot, so…”
Kenna slams on the brakes, and a horn blares behind us.
“What the hell?! Are you kidding me?” she screeches, slowly letting off the brakes and continuing at a slower speed. “That is disgusting. What a whore,” she spits, checking the rearview.
I wish I hadn’t told her. It’s embarrassing enough that my boyfriend’s family sees me like trash by the side of the road on a Wednesday morning, waiting to get picked up.
“It’s whatever. I just think in the future, it’s going to be a major issue. I think he secretly wonders if we can make it work too. I know he cares about me, but…” I sigh in defeat, the situation feeling insurmountable.
“You are full of self-doubt, and it’s completely toxic. You are such a bad bitch, in the best way. He sees that, or he wouldn’t have been trying so hard to cheer you up lately. We talked about it, and—”
“You talked about it?” I interrupt, facing her.
“Well, I mean, he asked me if I had any ideas to help him show you how much he cares. I really think he would tell his whole family sayonara for your love.”
She smiles at me, but all my heart does is sink further down. Several long seconds pass by.
“I don’t want him to have to do that…” My voice is barely audible. “All I’ve ever wanted is a family…and he has one—a judgmental one, sure. But they are obsessed with him. He’s clearly, like, the beloved firstborn son. Then, I walked up, covered in tattoos and wooing him into my web of seduction.” I shake my head. “He shouldn’t cut off ties with them to be with me. That would be completely unfair to ask of him. I shouldn’t have gotten back together with him in the first place.”
My head is drooped to the side, pressed against the cold window. Kenna is silent for a few more moments as we begin pulling into the crowded parking lot. She finds a space but doesn’t turn off the engine.
“Look, if you really want, I will take you back home. I think you should try to get out and forget about it all for a few hours. Use your fake to have a few drinks and put Adam and his bitch mother out of your head. If you go home, it’ll just overwhelm you. You need a mental break.” She looks at me, tilting her head to the side, waiting on my decision.
“Ugh, I’ll try.”
I kick my flats off, replacing them with the pink suede heels that probably cost more than everything in my wardrobe. I flip down the mirror and apply the matching lip stain, combing my fingers through my loose waves.
Kenna is on her phone again, presumably texting the group we’re meeting. She clicks it off, smiling at me once again. “Ready?”
“I guess.”
I’m trying to drum up some enthusiasm for the evening. Maybe she’s right; if I drink a little, I might relax. I hope her friends aren’t too chatty.
We make our way to the entrance, and I hand them my fake ID. It was a gift from Kenna to cheer me up. The bouncer eyes my etched body and wraps a neon-green bracelet tightly around my wrist.
Kenna gets one, too, and we saunter through the gate into the enormous outdoor venue. There’s an opener already strumming an acoustic guitar on a stage with a giant screen displaying the band’s picture.
It’s teeming with people of various ages, mostly college students home for break. Kenna is recognized within seconds, and I’m introduced to an innumerable mass of humans I don’t even attempt to remember. They all survey me like I’m the new girl in a freshman English class who just said she wants to try out for the cheer team. They’re wondering if I somehow blackmailed Kenna into being my friend, and I’m over it after about ten minutes.
