She had a lot to write; plenty had happened. These days, she was writing more about her friends’ lives and transgressions than she was writing about her own. It was kind of like writing a juicy novel but not having to work for any of the details, since all of them were there in her memory. She wrote a final sentence about Aria spying her philandering father in the car, then laid down her pen, picked up her cell phone, and composed a text to Aria herself.How are you doing? she wrote. Wanna talk?There was no response. Ali ran her tongue over her teeth. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Aria was supposed to break down to her, need her, and then Ali would confess what she was going through in turn. Instead, Aria was being so silent, almost like this was Ali’s fault.Her phone beeped, and for a second, Ali thought Aria had written back. But the text was from Nick. Miss you.Ali’s heart flipped over. Miss you back, she responded. Are you coming to the party?Not sure if I can, Nick responded.
