What Are Friends For?: A Friends to Lovers Romance by Sarah Sutton

Author:Sarah Sutton [Sutton, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734232202
Publisher: Golden Crown Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-01-14T05:00:00+00:00

When I got home from shopping with Eloise, the warm, welcoming arms of grounding greeted me. I wasn’t surprised.

Mom took my phone, kidnapped my computer, and I nearly had to laugh at how ironic all this was. Hadn’t I said that Mom would never enforce such a bogus rule? But here she was, even going to the extent of locking her office, not putting it past me to use her personal computer. That could’ve been because of her residual anger, too, since she was still giving me the cold shoulder.

It seemed that everyone was against me. Even the freaking universe.

Detention had one perk, though: I was able to dedicate time to working on snowflakes.

During the detention period on Thursday, while I sat in silence, I clipped away at my extra credit. In that hour, I managed to get seven more done—they weren’t the prettiest, but maybe I could hang them in a darker corner—bringing me to twenty-five snowflakes total.

Which meant I had eight days to finish 125 more snowflakes.

Friday after school, I buckled down and got to work. I didn’t have my cell phone to play music, so I had to resort to—gasp with me—an old-fashioned CD player. The only CDs I could find were Christmas ones since the season had just passed, but they were better than nothing.

Mom and I still hadn’t talked since I snapped at her, but she was pulling long days on-site, designing someone’s bathroom or something. I pushed my guilt aside so I could focus on my frustration with Elijah and these stupid snowflakes. There was no time to feel guilty.

I shook the blue and silver glitter onto a patterned snowflake, careful to get as little as possible on the table. Once the snowflake was fully covered, I set it aside and reached for my scissors, cutting into the next pattern.

Stupid Elijah. Why did he have to be so dumb? It made me feel better about whatever idiotic feelings I thought I’d had for him. How could I like a boy who was so stupid, so selfish? Kiss or no kiss. And that had to be the only reason I thought I liked him in the first place—he was just a great kisser. Didn’t make him a great boyfriend. Mom had been right—emotionally unavailable.

What gave him the right to talk to me like that? Eloise had asked me what had my panties in a twist, but seriously, what twisted his? Family stuff? What right did that give him to be so horrible to me? Calling me a bad influence. Saying he was “done talking” before walking away. How had our friendship devolved that much in such a short time? Tuesday night, we were fine. Better than fine. He’d kissed the back of my head! How had we gotten to this point of me yelling at him and him ignoring me?

My scissors cut into the top of my finger with a sharp, slicing pain. I let out a yelp and dropped the piece of paper. I put my finger in my mouth, wincing.

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