“She’s not actually coming to clean it. It’s just an excuse to talk to her without him finding out.”
“That makes sense.” Nodding my head.
“Is she okay?”
“I dunno I haven’t seen her. But knowing Tate —”
“Not her.” He pauses. “Your girl.”
“Oh.” I try to keep myself from coughing out. “She’s better today.”
Nodding his head. “Good.” Pausing, he looks back over at me, and for the first time in years it’s like we’re friends again, like we’re back in high school.
Goddamn it, of course this would be now.
“Do something for me?”
“What?” I’m confused as I look at him.
“Don’t spend too much time thinking you know better.”
“What do you mean?”
“You love her?”
“It hasn’t been that long.” I mumble over my words.
“Sure,” he laughs, shaking his head as if he doesn’t believe me. “Whatever it is, then. If you think it could be something, hold on.”
Oh, the irony of him saying that, knowing how he’d react if he knew who we were talking about.
“Again, it’s complicated.”
“The best ones always are.”
10
Walking into the bathroom, I see my reflection in the mirror and hate it, hate him for doing this to me. Yet, despite all that, despite how I look and how much hostility I have for a dead man, I can’t help but smile back at myself.
You’re worth getting murdered over.Replays in my head on a loop, understanding the significance of what he’s saying.
My alarm ringing on my phone tells me class starts in an hour.
“Shit.” Mumbling as I sigh again, reaching for my makeup and trying to figure out how to conceal what is apparently my face.
Picking up my phone, I search for ‘how to cover a’, but hesitate as I type in bruise, knowing the triggered response will come up with something about domestic violence. Instead, I click on the suggestion of a Hickey. I can cover up a pimple no problem, but this… never.
“Same thing.” I mumble to myself.
Pulling out some yellow eyeshadow, I pat it over the bruising, then cover it with some concealer and finally add my foundation.
“There.” I smirk to myself. Looking at myself hard in the mirror to see if I can see anything appearing from underneath.
Making my way across campus, I hear someone call to me. Idon’t need to look behind me to know Low’s running up.
“How’d it go last night?” She winks at me as she rushes over.
“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”
