Chapter 15

Starla

Pillows are our makeshift barricades, and laughter is our battle cry. Poppy hurls a plush grenade at me. I dive behind the couch, narrowly dodging a feathery projectile from Lennox, who's nestled into an armchair fortress.

"Truce! Truce!" Nola's voice rings out, completely out of fluffy artillery.

"Fine," I gasp between fits of giggles, "but only because I don't want to mess up these adorable pajamas." I smooth out the fabric of my star-patterned bottoms as I emerge from my cover.

We collapse onto the sea of pillows scattered across the living room floor of Nola's cozy house in Kissing Springs. She and Tobin float living between here and Florida during his season with the Florida Sharks professional football team, and she was here this weekend, making it the perfect girls night date.

"Okay," says Poppy as she reaches for the bottle of wine, refilling our glasses. "Game time. Let's spill the funniest moments we've had with our other halves."

"Ooh, scandalous!" I tease, leaning back on an overstuffed cushion and sipping the yummy red liquid.

Lennox goes first, recounting a tale involving Nash, her boyfriend, and an accidental mix-up at a costume party that had him dressed as a cowboy at a black-tie event. Nash is a serious professional, being an ex-professional football player for the Florida Sharks and now the head football coach at Kissing Springs High. The thought of what his face would surely have looked like makes us double over, imagining his 'yeehaw' attire clashing tuxedos.

"Your turn, Starla," Nola urges after we've wiped tears of laughter from our cheeks.

"Alright," I start, clearing my throat. "So, Aaron and I were at Outlook Horse Ranch for a picnic, right? Everything's going perfectly—the food, the view, Trip's horses grazing nearby. That is until Aaron decides he wants to impress me by showing off his non-existent horse-riding skills."

"Non-existent?" Lennox questions with her eyebrow arching.

"Completely. I don’t think he’d ever actually been on a horse before. Anyway, he gets on the horse, and I swear it looks like they're bonding. For a moment there, he actually looks at ease and like he knows what he’s doing. And then—" I pause for effect, "the horse takes off. Not galloping or anything, just casually walking away with Aaron clinging on for dear life. He screams all dramatic like he’s going to die."

All of us laugh and clutch our pillows until Poppy jumps in next with a smirk on her face.

"Okay, okay, my turn!" she announces, clapping her hands together. She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, ready to divulge her funny secret.

"Chance and I were at The Penalty Box last Thursday—trivia night, you know? And there was this question about some obscure sports rule. Chance is getting all competitive, puffing up like he's got it in the bag."

She pauses for dramatic effect like I did, grinning from ear to ear. "So, he slams the buzzer, right? Stands up, and declares with utmost confidence, 'That, my friends, is the offside rule of underwater basket weaving!'"

I snort into my drink, nearly spilling it. "Underwater what?"

"Exactly!" Poppy laughs, throwing her head back. "The entire bar goes silent, everyone's staring. Then, out of nowhere, the old bartender chuckles and says, 'Son, that might be the most confidently incorrect answer we've ever had here.'"

“Oh my God!” I laugh so hard along with my friends. We all have tears running down our cheeks.

As the laughter subsides, Nola, leans forward, tucking a strand of her brunette hair behind her ear.

"Alright, I got one," Nola begins with a smile. "So, Tobin decides he's going to cook dinner. He's there, trying to be all chef-like, claiming he can rival any cook in the biz. But instead of something edible, he creates what can only be described as... a culinary disasterpiece."

"Disasterpiece?" I ask.

"Picture this: charred chicken, undercooked rice, and a salad that somehow included chocolate chips because he thought they were 'a whimsical touch.'" She’s trying to hold back her laughter at the memory.

"Did you eat it?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Sure. One bite," Nola says with a proud nod. "And then we ordered pizza."

We erupt into another round of laughter, the kind that warms you from the inside out, reminding me why these nights are so precious.

I catch myself staring at the scene around me—four radiant faces flushed with the warmth of wine and friendship. Poppy is sprawled on the carpet, her giggle setting off another round of chuckles. Lennox, with her legs tucked under her, throws her head back in laughter, her curls bouncing around. Nola's eyes meet mine across the room as she clutches a pillow to her chest, trying to calm herself.

These women have become my confidants, my comrades in arms against life's absurdities.

"Starla, you okay over there?" Poppy asks.

"Never better," I respond, and I mean it. I've found a haven, a place where I'm no longer an outsider looking in.

"Okay, who's ready for a movie?" Lennox announces, rising to her feet with a slight sway.

"Something sappy!" Nola calls out, her words slightly slurred as she reaches for the remote.

"Ugh, fine. But only if we get more wine," Poppy declares, already on her way to the kitchen.