“Shut the fuck up. It’s… it’s been a while, I confess.”
“Brad still away?”
“Yes,” I hiss, feeling all kinds of frustrated about that fact. “It’s not fucking funny,” I snap when all she does is laugh at me.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, doing a really shitty job of covering her amusement.
After draining my drink, I slump back in the booth Jodie directed us to.
“Tell me something good.”
“The guys only have a couple of weeks of lessons left before exams start.”
“I said something good,” I groan. “Does my tutor seriously think I’m going to fit in there? I mean, look at me,” I say, gesturing to the disaster that’s staring back at my best friend.
“You’re gorgeous and intelligent, and the kids of Knight’s Ridge will be lucky to have you. It’s only a few weeks, and before long you’ll be looking forward to starting your first job and you’ll realise that you’re totally overreacting.”
“Am I, though?”
She glares at me, giving me her textbook Brianna’s-being-an-idiot-again look.
“Yes. You are. But because I’m an awesome friend, tell me what you need to make this more bearable.”
“I need to go shopping. I can’t turn up tomorrow like this. I need… I need a fucking miracle. Or a lottery win.”
“Well, seeing as you don’t play, that’s unlikely, but I have the next best thing.” Something wicked sparkles in her eyes.
“Which is?”
“Wait here.”
In a flash, she’s gone and running across the bar.
I stare at my empty glass, wishing some other kind of miracle would happen and it would refill itself. Logically, I know that I haven’t eaten and getting wasted is the worst kind of idea right now. But the temptation to drown all this bullshit is almost too much.
The second she’s back, she slides something across the table before me beneath her palm.
“What?” I ask, waiting for her to reveal her trick.
“Ta-da,” she squeals happily.
“Oh no. No. No. No. There is not fucking way that I’m—”
“You are. Toby has already approved it and agreed to take the shit for it.”
I stare down at the Amex black card before me, my stomach knotting uncomfortably.
“You want to walk in there tomorrow with your head held high and feeling like you fit in?”
“Yes, but—”
“No, buts. He owes you.”
“Orgasms, yes. Money, no.”
“Babe, he probably won’t even notice. You do know how loaded they are, right?”
“I try not to think about it.” The kind of figures I’ve heard them talking about absolutely terrifies me.