Free Almost Broken by Portia Moore Page A

take a genius.” I laugh to lessen the tension.
    “I got into a fight with my best friend,” she says hesitantly.
    “A bad one?” I guess.
    “Yeah. I said something I really shouldn’t have, and I feel like a huge puppy kicker.” She sighs and I laugh.
    “Are you laughing at me?” she asks, surprised.
    “Puppy kicker?” I chuckle, and she pauses and then giggles.
    It’s cute.
    “Oh yeah. I’m sorry. Sometimes I drift into the code words I trained myself to use around Caylen. Before her, I had quite the potty mouth,” she explains, her voice is light and almost back to itself.
    “What’s ‘puppy kicker’ a code word for?” I ask, lying back on my bed.
    “Bitch.” She chuckles.
    “Really? What other codes do you have?” I say, finding myself way too interested in this.
    “Uhm. Well let’s see, poo, of course, for shit. Bottom mouth for a-hole. Diaper for douche. Frick for fuck.” She pauses at the last part and a moment of awkwardness slips in.
    “Well puppy kicker is definitely the most creative,” I tease her, and I can tell she’s smiling.
    “You think you could do better?” she says in a challenging tone.
    “Hmm lets see. Ground licker for kiss ass, tree dung for shit, the classic darn-it for damn and for fuck, frechetta,” I rattle off.
    “Did you come up with these off the top of your head, or do you secretly have a list or something?” she says, amidst laughter.
    “Well let’s just say since I work with high schoolers and profanities are frowned upon, this isn’t the first time I’ve discussed code words.”
    “Did you come up with freschetta because you love the pizza?”
    “Of course,” I say.
    It should be obvious.
    “You are such a foodie!”
    “Is that code word for fattie?” I ask sarcastically.
    “No comment,” she says, covering up a laugh.
    We talk about our favorite foods. Hers is any type of pasta. I tell her I’m easy. Steak and potatoes. She tells me about her best friends, Angela and Hillary. How she always wanted to go school in the city. She loves cats but is allergic to them, and if she had to live any other place in the world, it’d be Paris even though she’s never been. I tell her when I was younger I wanted to be a pilot. She finds it ironic that I’m afraid of heights. I joke that it’s more tragic than ironic. I tell her how even though Aidan can be a ground licker sometimes, he’s really a loyal friend. We talk about so much but avoid the obvious like her life with Cal, how I met Jenna, how things are going to go from here, but it’s nice and it’s easy , and I don’t even realize two hours have passed until Aidan texts me and asks why I’m not downstairs.
    I was supposed to meet him for a run. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten, and she hadn’t either. I don’t want to get off the phone. She doesn’t seem like she wants to either, but it’s probably a good idea since it’s almost ten. I tell her goodnight, and she says not to eat too much before bed. I tell her I don’t eat that much, and we finally hang up. I feel good about our talk. No lines were crossed, and I’m much closer to being her friend than before the conversation. I throw on my shorts, gym shoes, and run down to meet Aidan. He’s like an old guy when it comes to being on time.
    “Dude what the fuck? You were supposed to meet me down here twenty minutes ago?” he says, throwing his arms in the air.
    “Lost track of time,” I say simply.
    “And what’s with the goofy smile on your face,” he says, nudging me. I shove him back.
    “Thinking about how I’m about to make wannabe Captain America eat my dust,” I say before taking off in front of him.
    “So you cheat now?” he calls after me.
    “Who said we were racing?” I call back to him before quickening my speed and furthering our distance.
    “All that training and you’re still slower than your grandma!” I taunt him. When we reach our halfway mark, we both stop to catch our breath.
    “So you