“Don’t worry,” I said.
“I’m not asking you for anything ever again.”
I slammed my bedroom door and cried into my pillow, hating myself half the time and her the other half.
By morning, I’d rehearsed an apology in my head.
“You’re not cheap. I’m sorry. I was just mad.”
I meant to say all of it.
I never got the chance.
That morning, I chickened out.
The next day, I slept over at a friend’s. After that, I came home from school and the house was too quiet.
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