62
Amanda came over around noon. I don’t know how people survive without best friends to share all their shock and dismay and horror at their behavior, and yet still tell them they’re okay.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“Stay far, far away.”
“What are you going to say when you see him again?”
“‘Stay far, far away.’”
Amanda stole a couple of pillows off my bed and settled beside me on the floor. “I just can’t believe my innocent little Cat—”
“Stop. It’s bad enough.”
“Actually, I think it’s almost good. You learned a lot last night. Apparently you’re not as immune as we thought.”
“Apparently I’m a s**t is what you mean.” I groaned and buried my face in a pillow. “What was I thinking?”
“I thought the whole point was you weren’t. Lighten up, Kit Cat. It’s not the worst th
