16
WHITTON
“Remind me again why I missed you.”
Harley cackled as we strode into Thai Pepper for lunch. “Because I’m awesome, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I grumbled.
Harley waved frantically at West, seated at the back corner table. West saluted her with a bemused smirk on his lips. A few girls were not-so-surreptitiously snapping pictures of him from nearby tables. Consequences of celebrity.
“God, you’re obnoxious now,” Harley said as she plunked into the seat next to West. She crossed her long legs, dangling a Doc Marten boot.
West laughed. “Uh, thanks? Missed you, too.”
“Of course you did. Both of you did.”
“We did,” I agreed with a shake of my head.
We were quite a trio. West in his unshakable rockstar garb—ripped jeans, band black T-shirt, and Vans. Harley dressed like she was o
