Page 2 of Filthy Little Pretties

“You deserve it,” she snarks, sitting up cross-legged on the bed, patting it for us to do the same.

“Get serious. There’s something I need to say. For real, for real.”

“Okay.”

“Course.” We answer simultaneously, turning and maneuvering ourselves to mimic her position on the bed, as we stare at her expectantly.

“We have to make an oath.”

Our heads bob up and down before we look at each other and grin. Donovan’s never one for the dramatic. It’s why we like her so much. She’s cooler than every other girl, but when she has her moments, she goes all in. So, if the girl wants an oath, we’ll give her one. No questions asked. Because I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything that we wouldn’t do for her.

Donovan surveys us then takes a deep breath before speaking with her eyes closed.

“Promise me. You promise me right now that we’ll always be best friends.”

“Duh.”

“Come on, Van.”

Liam and I glance at each other, confused because that’s not something that we need to promise, not now, not ever. She knows she’s it for us. She’s ours. And lately, more “it” for me than I can tell her. She holds up her hands as her dark lashes lift, exposing her blue eyes, like she needs to prepare herself for what she’s about to say.

“And no matter what”—her finger points between us accusatorially, making us both lean back—“you will never replace me with that bitchy Caroline.”

Liam snorts and covers his mouth, quickly killing his reaction as her eyes widen on him.

“Swear it, Liam Brooks! Or I will hate you forever. You’ll be dead to me. Dead.”

This time it’s my turn to laugh.

“I swear it,” he answers, holding up his hands in surrender, managing to say at least half of it before he breaks and joins my chuckling.

Her head spins to me.

“Swear it, Grey.”

Grinding my teeth, I shake my head at her. “Sworn. But I’m offended you’d need me to swear that. I hate who you hate. Caroline is a troll.”

She does a little victory dance with her shoulders, as we both beam at her, but it’s fleeting. Our smiles fade as the silence grows because that’s the thing about real life—it has a way of ruining everything. Grief bleeds out between us until we’re covered in it, all thinking each other’s thoughts.

We wouldn’t have to make this oath if she wasn’t leaving.

Liam clears his throat quietly, nudging my knee, and jerks his head to Donovan. She’s peering down at her small tan wrist, fiddling with one of the copious number of braided bracelets she wears. She makes them all the time; it’s her weirdo way of commemorating memories because she can’t just take a picture like a normal person.

I act like it’s dumb, but it’s one of the million things that makes her so uniquely her. I’ll miss getting them and then getting yelled at for tossing them away.

“I want you guys to keep one of these. You don’t have to wear them, but like, just to remember me by and maybe in case I never—”

“Shut up,” we both snap at her.

With a tug, she pulls one of the threads from her arm and hands it to Liam. Squeezing it in his fist, he lowers his head and wipes the back of his hand over his eyes.

Pussy. I could punch him for crying. We swore to each other that we wouldn’t. Donovan is the only one who gets to cry today. It’s only fair—we’re losing her, but she’s losing both of us.

“Here,” her voice calls to me, our forlorn faces meeting.

I hold out my wrist to her, and she smiles softly. Watching as she wraps the string around my wrist and ties it into a knot, I can’t help but remember when she made it.

Right before school started this year. It was the last day of summer. The three of us swam all day at her family’s lake house, and we were all waterlogged and pruned as we lay in the sun. I was playing with her bracelets when I saw the silver-gray strand amongst all the colorful ones.