Page 110 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

CALLIE CALLED INTO work for the week, too lost to function. She was completely fucked up, a mess of epic proportions. It seemed impossible that in such a short amount of time she could have gone from a hermit, who was just a little gun-shy, to this lunatic head-case who hurt the people she loved.

By Thursday, even lying on the couch watching How I Met Your Mother didn’t make her feel better.

Ratchet’s head came up off the floor, and he let out a soft woof, but she didn’t move. Her front door slammed open, and she heard several voices calling her name, but she just kept watching Ted try to fall in love with the Slutty Pumpkin.

Stop forcing it, Ted. It’s over.

“Okay, this is sad,” Caroline said above her.

Gemma squatted down next to her. “Callie, are you okay?”

“Peachy, except your big head is blocking the TV.”

Gracie snorted. “You do have a round head.”

“Shut up.” Gemma stood. “We have to get her out of here. At least get her showered.”

“She does smell pretty ripe,” Gracie said.

“She is right here and smells just fine.”

“If you think the smell of funk and Funyuns is fine . . . ” Caroline grabbed the snack bag out of her hand.

“How did you know I was home? I could have been on vacation in the Bahamas.”

Gracie answered that one. “The stalker boy at your station said you called in sick, but when he came by to check, your car was in the drive, you weren’t answering the door, and it smelled like a dead body.”

“You are full of shit!”

“Only about the dead-body smell, but he did knock for a while. He was worried, so he talked to Jenny Andrews, who talked to Ellie, who told Caroline, who called us.”

“Seriously, wallowing in here is not going to bring Everett back,” Gemma said.

“Who says I want him?” Callie said sourly.

“Um, the wallowing, moping, and all-out pitifulness.”

Callie lifted her head to look up at Caroline. “You suck.”

“No, this is what the rest of the world—who isn’t throwing a pity party—calls a caring friendship. Now, get your ass up, shower, brush your teeth, and shave your legs. Not in that order.” Gracie ripped off her blanket.

“And when you get out, we’ll have coffee and a cheese Danish waiting for you,” Gemma said.

“And then you’ll explain what the hell happened and what the plan is for fixing it,” Gracie chimed in.

“Oh, by the way, you made Miss Know It All’s column again. Congrats,” Caroline said, dropping the paper on her face.

“I hate you.”

The three women dispersed into different rooms—Caroline into the kitchen, probably to keep the coffee warm—and a few seconds later, Callie heard the shower turn on.

“I’m not an infant; I can shower on my own.”

“Not according to the body odor permeating your house and burning my nostrils!” Gracie yelled cheerfully.

“Fucking smart-ass.” Callie held the paper out as she climbed to a sitting position, scanning the page.

Is Caverett dunzo already? Sources say that the sparklingly happy couple are on the outs, and I am completely devastated, dear readers.