Who are you? I whisper. I have done nothing but be a good friend. This entire year, you’ve been horrible—honestly, Mariah, you care more about parties and guys than you do about me.
I swallow and clear my throat, pressing my palms down on the bed to push myself up. I yelp in pain as soon as I put weight on my left arm.Kennedy gets up and hurries to my side, gently putting her hands on my chest and pushing me back down to the bed. Nope, no getting up for you. Doctor’s orders. Are you in pain?
Closing my eyes and trying to get comfortable, I take stock of my body. Every muscle is achy and my left shoulder feels like it was run through a meat grinder.My shoulder. What’s wrong with my shoulder?I look down and see a thick bandage wrapped around my shoulder and chest. Upon further inspection, I see an IV sticking out of my arm.
Dude, you were shot. Do you remember anything from yesterday? Kennedy asks, grabbing a cup of water with a straw in it and holding it to my lips.I take a few long pulls on the straw and the cold water instantly soothes my scratchy throat.
Glancing around the room, I realize Dallas isn’t here. I remember hearing him and Ted talking about me at the police station. I remember my heart breaking into a million pieces.
I remember watching two women kiss, I mumble, letting my head flop back to the pillow.Hairy godmother—not the same as a matchmaker.
Whatever. You’re still being ridiculous, whatever you want to call yourself.You know, come to think of it, a hairy godmother would make an amazing Halloween costume. I’ll have to remember that come next October. Kip stares off into the distance, imagining what it would look like. Dude, like the Tooth Fairy, with tiny wings and shit? I could pull off a tutu, right? Camo would be badass—or brown.
It would be pretty awesome, I relent begrudgingly.Hairy godmother, at your cervix, he jokes.