Ice helps numb the heartbeat that is throbbing on my chin. June has ice on her knuckles and Pierce is just smiling. His dimples showing themselves.

What is he smiling about? His girlfriend punched his lifelong best friend. There should be nothing funny about this.

“What are you smiling about?” I ask crisply.

“Oh, just at the fact that both of you are ridiculous,” Pierce replies.

“What are you talking about?”

“You,” Pierce points at June, “need to control your anger. And you,” he now points to me, “need to learn that agitating June will not end well for you.”

I scoff. Today isn’t my day.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let my anger get to the best of me. You alright, Spicer?” June says.

“Yeah, I’m good, Chaffer. I’m also sorry for saying your father is a liar.”

June and I have called each other by our last names for over a year now. One day I joked around by calling her by her last name. She was confused at first, so I had to explain that because she was in a military family I thought it would be funny to address her as a soldier. She ruined the joke though. It’s never funny if you have to explain why the joke is funny.

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Ever since then, we have been calling each other by our last names.

June huffs. “I don’t want to be in here anymore. Want to go to see if Cheleste is at the market?”

The market happens on the third day of the week. Cheleste is well known for her baked goods. She makes amazing white cherry pie and smoked apple cinnamon buns. Cheleste’s goods have been so popular that she has to rent an entire building to make all of her treats in.

“If you need something from the market, you can ask one of our lovely servants to go there. You don’t need to be in that filthy place, June Bug,” June’s mother steps in.

June’s mother, one of the nastiest women you will ever meet, is freakishly tall. Her skinny body makes her huge nose pop out more than it is. Hairy moles are on her chin and right above her left eyebrow. How June’s very handsome father fell in love with that creature is beyond me.

“Or better yet, make your dirty rat go to the market for you.” June’s mother gestures to Pierce.

I glance over at Pierce to see how he took it. He looks down at his feet as he shrinks back from her.

Anger boils in my blood. Heat flowing to my cheeks makes my face as red as a tomato. How dare she talk to my friend like that? What did he do to deserve to be treated like this?

June stands up on her feet, taking both Pierce and my arms in her hands, and drags us outside.

We walk in silence as we head to see our other friend.