LORI
My door slammed open. Sienna didn’t knock or text me that she was coming. She didn’t warn me, just marched in with a plastic bag in each arm like she robbed a corner store and threw them onto my bed.
“We’re rage-watching until our eyeballs fall out or your self-esteem goes feral,” she said. “I brought sugar, salt and caffeine.”
She was in fuzzy slippers and a hoodie two sizes too big. Her bun looked like it lost a fight with the wind, and her eyeliner had fully given up. She looked like chaos.
I sat up, still in my lavender cardigan, surrounded by crumpled tissues, a dead phone, and whatever crumbs I hadn’t vacuumed up from my own heartbreak spiral. “You didn’t even text.”
“Because I knew you’d say no. And you saying no to me is like… irrelevant.” She started pulling snacks from
