Page 19 of Never Not Friends

“Oh, no.” Her expression changes. “What new development happened in your love-triangle saga?”

Avery happens to be the only person in the world who knows the depths of my feelings for Vinny. I didn’t even tell her. She figured it out when Juliet and Vinny stopped by the elementary school two years ago to grab Juliet’s purse, which she’d left in my car the night before.

According to Avery, it was obvious I was in love with Vinny from my gaga eyes and the way I laughed at everything he said. I’m pushing back on her assessment. Gaga eyes? Really? That doesn’t sound like me at all.

Whatever.

There’s no point in hiding anything.

She knows.

“It’s nothing. It’s a good thing, actually.” I scratch the back of my neck. “Juliet and Vinny picked a date for their wedding.”

Avery’s brows lower. “Well, obviously, they’re going to pick a date. They’re engaged.”

“Yeah, no, I know. It’s”—I brush imaginary lint off my skirt—“next month.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak.

“So, you know, the wedding date is going to be helpful for me to get over Vinny and move on. Like a…like a kick in the right direction to get over him.”

Her lips push into a frown, softening her fierce expression. “Emma, are you okay?”

I shrug like a professional actress without a care in the world. “Yeah, of course. In fact, Juliet wants me to help with the wedding whenever she’s busy taking care of her mom.”

“What do you mean she wants you to help?”

“Like, tomorrow I need to go and pick out the invitations because Juliet’s taking her mom to the doctor.”

Avery freezes. “No, Emma. No!”

“What? It’s fine. I’m the maid of honor.”

“Emma.” Avery leans forward, eyes blazing. “First of all, a bride letting the maid of honor pick the invitations seems crazy!”

“Juliet told me everything she wants. She trusts me to carry out her instructions. It’s fine.”

“Still, you cannot plan the wedding of the man you love.”

I thought the same thing, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do this for Juliet? It’s not her fault she needs to help her mom.

“Text Juliet. Call her. Tell her no. Tell her you love her fiancé or that you’re moving. Just get out of this.”

“Avery, it’s fine.” I laugh as if she’s the one being ridiculous. “Besides, it’s too late. I already said yes. I can’t go back on my word.”

“Stop!” she groans. “You’re like a doormat. You just let people walk all over you.”

I wince a little.

Nobody wants to be known as a doormat.

“I just think if someone asks for your help, you should help them,” I defend. “That makes me a nice person. Not a doormat. Besides, Juliet would do the same thing for me if the roles were reversed. Because that’s the kind of friend she is too.”

And I’m not just saying it.

She’s always been there for me.

Like the time she dropped everything and drove across town one hour to come jump my dead car battery because I was too scared to ask a stranger.