“Jimmy!” I jogged over to greet him.
“Dude, it fucking sucks to be your friend!” He looked me up and down.
I jerked to a standstill. “What?”
“I can’t even hug you!”
“Since when has that mattered to you?”
“Ty, if anyone could use a hug, it’s you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look at your place.”
I turned around and studied my home. “Yeah?” It looked fine to me.
“Small, are you nuts? It’s almost Easter, and you haven’t got a single egg or bunny or chickie on your lawn.”
“Uh…yeah. I guess I don’t.”
“Your dad would be so ashamed. He’s had all the decorations up for the past two weeks!”
That was another thing Dad was a big proponent of: decorating the house and yard for each holiday.
“I…I’ve been busy with classes,” I offered weakly. I couldn’t tell my best friend I’d had little desire to do anything beyond feed a vampyre. Well, one vampyre in particular. “I just haven’t had the time—”
“Bullshit. You still aren’t over that guy, are you?”