I look down at my phone and scroll through the messages from Benson.
Benson:Hi.Me:She just came home.Me:She walked right past me and slammed her bedroom door shut.Benson:Shit.
Shit is right. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, but I think better of it.
I cannot believe what I just did with him. Not only did I hook up with him last night, I let him into my apartment and seduced him again. I told him not to use a condom, and I did all of this knowing Gianna could come home. He washed me in the shower, and my room smells like him. Somehow, underneath this dread, I know that I have never wanted anyone the way I want him. I want him here now, and that wanting feels like a betrayal to Gianna.
I type.
Me:I think I have to talk to her. I’ll text you after.
I hit send. I look at the screen for one second, waiting for the three dots, but they don’t appear, so I put my phone down and stand.
I walk to her bedroom door and knock. “Gianna.”
The sound of her in the room stops. “I’m busy,” she calls out.
“Can we talk?” I say anyway because this is eating at my soul. The door slam isn’t a normal thing in our apartment.
I hear her right at the door as she says, “Lucy, I am not in a headspace to talk to you right now.”
“I just want—”
The door opens. She’s in the same Camden Wolves zip-up and leggings she had on when I saw her last. Her hair’s in a low bun. Her makeup is gone. Her eyes are red at the rims, and there is asmall wet line on the side of her nose where a tear has dried. My stomach sinks. She’s crying.
“What,” she says, not sounding like she’s been crying at all. “What do you want?”
“I want — I want to talk.”
She crosses her arms and uses a degrading tone. “Okay. Let’s talk.” She shrugs. Her mouth is tight, and the look in her eyes means war. “Want to talk about how you snuck out of the apartment last night while I was asleep and went to the Hawthorne House?” She nods. “Yeah, Sadie told me that she saw you there. You stayed in his bedroom all night. I got up to pee, I saw the text, and thoughtno, Lucy wouldn’t, so I checked your bedroom.” Her eyes widen. “You weren’t there. I couldn’t sleep and heard you come home at three in the morning. Did I miss anything?”
My face is hot. My hands are at my sides, but they’re shaking like I did something terrible. Did I do something terrible? It didn’t feel like it last night, but now it feels like I couldn’t have done anything worse. I thought I knew what I was going to say, but I didn’t expect her to do all the talking with the tone and attitude. Every muscle moves on her face like she’s disgusted with me.
“Gianna—”
She crosses her arms again. “Did I miss anything? Yes or no.”
I murmur, “Yes.”
“Yes?” She lifts an eyebrow at me.
I nod. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
She laughs, throwing her arms. “Okay. Cool. You didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Gianna—”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Lucy. I don’t know what you came over here to hear. Do you want me to tell you it’s okay? It’s not okay. Do you want me to tell you I’ll get over it? I’mnot going toeverget over it. Do you want me to tell you I forgive you? I don’t.”
“I just wanted to talk.”
“We’re talking.”
But we’re not, she’s running the entire conversation. She’s already decided not to hear me.
“Is this because of what happened with Madeline?” I know it could easily go south with bringing up her biggest fallout with Benson, but I have to address it. She has to know that I’m not Madeline. This isn’t going to end the same way.
She looks at me likehow dare you.I have a feeling that whatever happened with Madeline is the catalyst. Her glare makes me want to shove my head in the ground now.
