“He does not make me wiggy! No man hasevermade me wiggy. I don’tdowiggy.”
“You didn’t used to,” she murmurs lightly, eyes still gleaming with humor. “…UntilDecember.”
I groan. “You’rerelentless.”
“At least I’m not indenial.”
I groan again, louderthistime.
OfcoursePhoebe would be convinced that my sudden single status is due to some secret, closely-harbored crushonLuca.
(Which is just plaincrazy.Clearly.)
I can’t blame her for attempting to explain my strangely antisocial behavior over the past few months; I haven’t given her a real explanation, so she’s been forced to fill in the blanks with her own half-baked theories. It would be different, if she knew about my financial situation… and the fact that even if I wanted to start seeing someone new, I currently have zero cute first date outfits in my wardrobe, since I’ve been slowly selling off my designer bags and shoes on eBay for a fraction of their value, just so I have enough to makeendsmeet.
Dating is never easy, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when your life is in shambles and you’re sleeping on an air mattress with a slow-leakinghole.
Tell her, a stubborn inner voice suggests.She’s your best friend. She won’t judge you. Just tell her what’s been going on with you,idiot.
But I can’t. Not now, at least, with her wedding mere days away. She has enough on her plate without me adding my drama tothemix.
“Your conspiracy theories are running wild, Phoebe West. I’m just in a dry spell. I’m sure things will pick up again, in the near future.” I steel myself. “In fact, I’ve just decided — put me down for a definite plus one at thewedding.”
Her smile crumples into a frown. “Areyousure?”
No, Ithink.
“Absolutely,”Isay.
I’ll just have to conjure up a date out of thin air, in the nexttwodays.
Easy.
“Don’t bite my head off,” she murmurs, frowning. “But if you change your mind — if you decide not to bring someone — I won’t be mad. Don’t drag some random guy along just to prove mewrong.”
“Noted.” I decide to change the subject to something much, much safer than my — nonexistent — love life. “Did I tell you Duncan’sintown?”
“Your brotherDuncan?”
Inod.
“The same brother who puked in my purse after the Sadie Hawkinsdance?”
“Yes, Phoebe.” My eyes roll. “You really have to let that go. It was adecadeago.”
“It was my favorite purse! Heruinedit.”
I shake my head. “Well, don’t worry. He’s currently too busy ruining my life to ruinyours.”
“What doyoumean?”
I give her an abbreviated version of events, leaving my own financial woes out of the story as I tell her about Duncan’s newest failed business venture and surprise appearance on my doorstep this morning, asking foraloan.
“That man has more trouble holding onto his money than an Irishman in a pub.” Phoebe’s eyes narrow. “Are you going tohelphim?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I hedge. “He’s at my apartment, now — I told him to stay put, for the time being, and promised to help him talk things through when I get home. We’ll come up with some kind ofsolution.”
“You’re a good sister, Lila.” She pauses a beat. “Mimi would be proud of you,youknow.”