Rebecca
Greta glares at me. "Have you texted William yet?"
"No," I grumble. "William is going to look so self-satisfied, and I would seriously rather die than see his smug face."
"Well, I don't want to die—tell him we need him!"
I stare down at William's latest message. It's of him drinking a glass of wine in his tub. Honestly, it's just his feet and hand holding the beverage while bubbles hide the goods.
Me: Can I ask you for a favor?
William: What's up?
I take a deep breath. "Yeah, I can't do this," I hand my phone over to Greta and slump my shoulders. "Can you text him? Please? My pride is getting in the way..."
Greta takes my phone and dials William's number. "I will call him."
My eyes grow huge. "No, wait—"
"Hello, William, this is Greta, Rebecca's best friend... Yes, hi. W
