Love Her - Andrea Johnston Page 0,30

the school’s bad boy.”

My eyes widen as I stuff my face with more pasta. What can I say? Pasta is my love language. I finish the oversized bite quickly while processing what Gigi said. I would never peg her as a bad girl by looking at her or the home she shares with Brian. Clearly a fan of house flipping shows, she has implemented a lot of the popular elements I’ve seen on television. Their home isn’t huge but it’s comfortable and decorated with what I’ve heard referred to as “updated rustic.” Dark woods with bright white accents, I just want to cuddle up on the oversized couch and read a book in front of the fireplace.

“You were a bad girl? I don’t believe it.”

“Oh, honey, believe it. I wasn’t always carrying around a human the size of a watermelon and stuffing my feet into slippers. At one point I was a badass bitch and much hated in my high school. Gosh, I was so hateful. Then I grew up. Well, we grew up. Brian, also known as the popular bad boy of the school, went away to college and I followed him.”

“I have no words. You’ve rendered me speechless.”

Laughing, Gigi waves me off as we fall into a comfortable silence while eating. My mind is blown at the idea of either her or Brian being anything other than who I see now. Perhaps that’s because I don’t know her as the person she was. I’m only able to see the version she is now. The true version that is kind and funny with some serious cooking skills.

“Let me clean up, you sit there,” I instruct as I begin clearing the table. With a sigh, Gigi settles back in her seat, hands resting on her belly as she lifts her feet up to rest on the chair I just vacated.

As I scoop the leftovers into plastic storage containers, I say, “I was the mean girl in my high school. Sometimes I think I still am.”

Refusing to make eye contact with her, I snap the lids on the containers and place them in the refrigerator. She doesn’t speak right away and that worries me. Did I out myself to her? Let her know that the woman she invited into her home is not a nice person?

“You are not. I mean, maybe you are to some people but that’s not who you are, Lis. I have good intuition and you, my friend, are a good person.”

“There are people in my hometown who would disagree,” I scoff while wiping my hands with a dishtowel and facing Gigi.

“Hmm . . . are these the same people you went to high school with?”

Gigi rises from the table and waves me toward the dream couch. I follow her lead and relax into the opposite corner. I mean really, what is this made of? Clouds and fairy dust?

“Yeah. I don’t know what it is about that town or the people in it. The minute I see someone it’s like my mind switches to autopilot and I can’t help myself. Don’t worry though, karma has come back to bite me in the ass.”

“First of all, I can totally see how growing up in a small town and never leaving could keep old feelings and emotions running. It’s been an adjustment moving to Burlington. I mean, it isn’t as small as Lexington but still a lot smaller than Houston.”

I understand what she’s saying. When I first moved to Dallas it was an adjustment. “That’s the thing though. I left. I went away to college, I got married and had kids. So did a lot of other people, but then it all went to shit.”

Gigi shifts in her seat, twisting a little to her side. “Damn, this child craves Italian but then kicks the shit out of me. If you don’t mind me being nosy, how did the mean girl who everyone feared end up eating humble pie and living at home with your parents?”

Bending down, I slip off my flats and pull my feet up to the couch and tuck them to my side, making myself comfortable for this story. The only people who know what happened are my parents and my divorce attorney. Well, and I guess Michael’s divorce attorney.

“Gosh, it’s a long story. I could start and still not be done by the time you have the baby.” Rolling her eyes, she nudges me with her foot. “The cliff notes version is not as exciting but here