P.S. I Still Love You

kissed John. I kissed him because I wanted to.
“No.”
The muscle in his jaw twitches. “When we broke up, you said you wanted to be someone’s number
one girl, but look at you. You don’t want to have a number one guy.” He gestures rudely at the cake
table. “You want to have your cake and eat it too.”
His words sting just the way he intends them to. “I hate that saying. What does it even mean? Of
course I want to have my cake and eat it too—otherwise what’s the point of having cake?”
He frowns at me. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
The song finishes then, and the kids come over to claim their cakes. Kitty and Owen, too. “Let’s
go,” Owen says to Peter. He’s got my caramel cake.
Peter glances down at him and then back at me, his eyes hard. “I don’t want that one.”
“That’s the one you told me to get!”
“Well, I don’t want it anymore. Put it back and get the Funfetti down there at the end.”
“You can’t have it,” Kitty tells him. “That’s not how a cake walk works. You take the cake with
the number you were standing on.”
Peter’s mouth falls open in shock. “Aw, come on, kid.”
Kitty moves closer to me. “Nope.”
After Peter and his brother leave, I hug Kitty from behind. She was on my side after all. Song girls
stick together.