Best Friends Don't Kiss(32)
“I did. In fact, I paid loads of attention to the sexual dalliances. I don’t remember paying attention to a Code Blue, though.” But Meredith and Cristina and Addison and Izzie? Well, I was definitely paying attention to them.
“It means a medical emergency, you horndog!” She turns to run back out of my dorm, yelling over her shoulder, “Now, come on!”
Real concern hitting me for the first time since she thudded into my room, I grab my Nokia off the desktop in case I need to make a call and take off at a run down the hallway after her.
It doesn’t surprise me that we end up at her room, what with her track record for disaster and all, but Desi is away in Destin, and Ava and Ben broke up two weeks ago. A weird, pinch-y feeling in my chest makes me nervous for whom I’m going to find in there needing assistance.
Ava bounds in the door, and I follow closely behind. We only make it three feet into the small room before I realize something strange is at play and speak up.
“Ava, there’s no one here. Why on earth would you get me all worked up, thinking there’s a—”
It’s almost scary how close I come to saying guy in here. I don’t even understand it, really. We’re friends. But my God, I wasn’t looking forward to finding some douche with a twelve-foot dick that somehow got injured during sex, lying in Ava’s bed.
Finding the room empty is strangely comforting.
“A…medical emergency,” I finally finish. “We could be watching Wedding Crashers right now, and the popcorn is getting cold.”
“Shut up and get over here!” she yells, scooping a tiny, clearly dead goldfish out of the bowl next to Desi’s bed. “Do CPR. Do mouth-to-mouth! Do something!”
Oh.
I step closer to my frantic friend’s back and put a calming hand to the top of her shaking one as she tries to use her finger to perform chest compressions on Sir Swims A Lot. He’s been a staple in their dorm room since freshman year, and I know Desi has a huge attachment to the little guy.
As it seems, she may not be the only one.
“He’s gone, Ava. I’m sorry.”
A shaky rattle betrays her emotion as she sighs. “What are we gonna do, Luke? Desi loves him. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to him while she was gone, and now look. He’s dead. Just like Teddys one through four.”
“This isn’t your fault, babe. Fish don’t live forever.”
“This one should have!” she sobs.
Heartbroken at the sight of her heartbreak, I turn her to face me and pull her into my chest and squeeze her tight.
She quivers for a couple minutes, but eventually, she manages to calm down.
It’s only then that the best plan for everyone comes to mind.
“Come on,” I say, scooping the poor little guy up in my hands and heading for the bathroom. “I’m going to help you give Sir a proper toilet burial, and then we’ll head down to the pet store and get another little guy that looks just like him.”
“What? Why would we do that?”
“Because Desi loves him. Loves his company. And because some other little fish would love to have the same from her.”
“Okay…” She pauses and searches my eyes. “But why would you do this, then? Help me get rid of the body and everything?”
“Because you, Ava Lucie, are my ride-or-die.”
She nods then, resolute. “Good. Because I’m pretty sure you’re mine too.”
November 14th
Ava
I step off my elevator and head toward the door of my place, slightly dejected by the fact that I’ve gone on four TapNext dates and none of them has been a success.
I’m running out of time to find someone to take home with me who isn’t a complete stranger, and the anxiety of possibly having to face my web of lies with Callie and my mom is nearly vomit-inducing.
I just want to get in my apartment, turn on the Kardashians, and eat twenty-three pizza bagels to ease the feeling.
But I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I find Luke in the middle of our shared hallway, lying between both of our apartments and sprawled across the old and squeaky hardwood floor.
“Luke?” I question, and he peeks out of one eye to meet my confused gaze.
“Where’s your date?”
“Who the fuck knows, and who cares. I think the bigger question to ask right now is what are you doing?” I ask as he pulls himself off the floor and to his feet. It’s then that I notice the color red on his forehead and right arm and T-shirt. My eyes go wide. “Oh my God, are you bleeding?”
He takes one finger to swipe the red from his forehead and sticks that finger in his mouth and grins. “It’s ketchup.”
A laugh pops from my throat. “What on earth…?”
“I wasn’t sure if you needed another fake emergency.”
But he said—
“I know I said I wouldn’t do it, but Mark sounded like a douche and a half. No way I was going to let you guilt-fuck the guy.”
“Very funny,” I answer and shake my head. On the inside, I’m smiling, but after the hellish date I just had to experience, it’s hard to let happiness prevail. “Is that why you texted me about five minutes ago to see if I was on my way home?”