Don’t you have a lot of besties?” I taunt her with the information I’ve gathered about her. “In fact, you might call that bartender you met today a bestie, so your sense of that word is skewed and doesn’t count in this argument.”
“Jeremy.” Cecily pokes me, softening her tone, imploring, but I keep my unwavering attention on Ava.
“He’s not wrong about that.” Remi grins and dunks an olive in his mouth.
“Shut it, Rems.” Ava gives him the side-eye, then directs her malicious stare at me. “It’s different with Cecily. She’s my number one best friend.”
“You mean the one who takes care of your problems and tucks you to bed when you’re drunk,” I say. “That won’t be happening going forward.”
Ava’s expression falls downward. “That’s not all. We…go to places together, and have a lot of sleepovers, and we talk and…and…she’s the only person who gets me.”
“Sounds toxic. You’re too dependent on her and offer nothing in return.”
“That’s not true. Also, I came first and know more about her than you.”
“Doubt it.”
“Then do you know her middle name?” Ava’s voice has turned defensive, realizing that she’s losing. A decent person would’ve backed off, but I’m nowhere on that spectrum so I’ll happily crush the arrogant shit.
“Annabelle,” I say.
Ava purses her lips. “Her comfort food.”
“Waffles and mint gum.”
“Her…her favorite film, then! I bet you don’t know this one.”
“It’s Japanese. Rashomon.”