Page 15 - My FlipBook

90 days of different

“You’re very predictable,” she said.
My head tingled. First Luke and then her.
I turned into the parking lot and pulled into a spot beside
the ice-cream store. “Luke said I was too predictable. He said
I was boring, that I acted too old.”
I expected Ella to defend me. She didn’t.
“Soph, you know you’re my best friend. You know I love
you.”
“And the but in this sentence is…?”
She continued to look at me, as if arranging her words and
gathering the courage to say them. It had to be serious for Ella
to be thinking before speaking.
“You are very, very, very responsible,” she began.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Sometimes it’s a very good thing. You’re always the desig-
nated driver, the person parents are happy that somebody is
going someplace with because they know you’ll take care of
things. But it’s not just that you’re like a big sister or even a
mother. It’s like you’re my old-maiden aunt.”
For the second time that day, I felt like I’d been kicked in
the stomach.
“I’m not saying this to hurt you.”
“Then I guess you didn’t succeed, because you did hurt me.”
I climbed out of the car, and Ella jumped out and came
after me. “Let me explain!” she called out.
“I think we’ve talked enough. Let’s just get some ice
cream.”

I reached for the door of the store, and she grabbed me
and spun me around. “Soph, I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just
thought we were good enough friends for me to be honest.”

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