Kayla asks fred for advice.
She found her friend, Fred, in the kitchen, making what appeared to be instant mashed potatoes but which had the consistency of melting snowballs. He either hadn't dressed for the day or wasn't planning to leave the house, since he was in a pair of blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt. And Fred wasn't the type of person to go out in public wearing sweatpants.
"Hey," Kayla said as she took a seat at the kitchen table. "the girls here?"
Fred shook his head. "They're scouting locations for a new studio."
Despite the three-year age difference between them, Kayla and Fred got along well. He'd always been good to her, almost like a brother.
"Freddie?" Kayla said.
Fred had always told Kayla that if she ever needed anything, she could come to him if she wasn't comfortable talking to anyone else. Tom was one of those areas.
She knew she could take anything to her best friend, Cheyenne or Robin, and that they'd never make fun of her, but she felt like an inexperienced schoolgirl. Why was Kayla so nervous about telling Tom how she feels? For god sake, Kayla is twenty-one! She shouldn't be acting like this. What so hard about asking Tom on a date?
It was hard. Real hard.
"Um." Kayla picked at her fingernail as she tried to think of a way to broach the subject.
Fred shut off the stove burner and started to scoop his instant mashed potatoes into a bowl. He didn't seem to noticed her stalling.
"Does Tom every... you know, talk about me?"
Fred froze, mid scoop. He looked across the kitchen island at her, unblinking. Finally, he set the pan down and pressed his hands on the counter as if to balance himself.
"No." He ran his hand through his curly hair and avoided looking Kayla in the eye.
"Never? Not once?" Kayla slouched in her chair, feeling embarrassed for asking such a stupid question. Why would she think Tom talked about her? Idiot.
Fred inhaled deeply. "Why are we talking about Tom anyway?"
Now it was Kayla's turn to avoid eye contact. She didn't say anything because she didn't know what to say. At any rate, her silence clued her friend in.
"Oh," he said, drawing that one word out into five syllables.
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