“No,” I say. “We’re okay. Thanks.”
She quickly makes him a sandwich and takes it upstairs, leaving us alone again.
“Come on,” Simone says, jumping back down. “Let’s go up to your room. We have a lot to catch up on and some things to plan. I’ve missed my partner in crime.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her as we walk upstairs. “I know I’ve been so busy; I feel like I’ve neglected everyone lately. Especially you.”
We get into my room, and I shut the door behind us as Simone flops onto my bed. “Busy?” She arches an eyebrow. “You kinda dropped off the planet, girl. I thought maybe Elon Musk flew you to Mars without telling me.”
I laugh, grateful for the jokes. “Nothing that interesting, sadly.”
I stand there, restless, chewing on the straw of my coffee. I don’t feel like myself today. Well, it’s not just today…I don’t think I have for a while now, actually. I feel like a broken screen. Everything still works, but the cracks make it all look and feel ruined. I’m one drop away from breaking completely.
I keep pulling my sleeves down and fixing my hair so it’s in front of my shoulders out of habit.Simone notices the shift. She notices everything. It’s her—shitty for me—superpower. She tilts her head. “You okay? You look…off.”
“Didn’t sleep great,” I mumble. “The usual insomnia.”
She studies me a second longer, then shrugs it off and launches into a story about some drama going on at her school. I nod and laugh at the right times, but my mind feels like it keeps trying to drift off. I’mtryingnot to zone out, but the constant anxiety that sits with me is making it hard to focus. I turn to grab the TV remote from the shelf on my wall, and as I stretch to the top shelf, my sleeve rides up. Simone’s gasp is small but sharp.
“Lyd…what is that?”
My arm freezes in midair.
“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, almost dropping the remote, trying to pull my shirt down.
Simone quickly walks over to me and gently grabs my wrist, angling my arm toward the light, bruises litter my forearm. Her eyes flick to my throat, and I can feel her notice the small discoloration there.
“Nothing?” she repeats, voice lowering. “Did…Eli do this to you?”
“What?—No, it was—” I swallow. “I don’t even remember what that’s from, honestly.”
She lets go and folds her arms. “You don’t remember, or you don’t wanna tell me, Lydia, cause this looks really bad.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Okay, then tell me what it is.” Her tone is gentle, but it backs me into a corner faster than yelling ever could. “Because last month I swear I saw a bruise on your back, too, at the lake.”
“Simone, can we not do this? I’m fine. Honestly. It’s nothing.”
She doesn’t move. I look up, and her eyes are shining with worry…or maybe anger? Both, probably.Everyone is always angry with me.
“It could have just been from rough sex,” I blurt, desperate. “We get carried away sometimes. That’s all.”
Simone’s face hardens, and I instantly regret saying that. “You’re telling me Eli leaves finger-sized bruises on your neck and arms because he can’t control himself when you’re fooling around? Lydia, that is not a flex, that’s a red flag.”
I slam the remote on the bedside table. “Just drop it, please.”
“No.” She sets her coffee down. “I’m your best friend. You don’t try to hide bruises like this from me and expect me not to ask questions.”
This irrational anger and dumb protectiveness take over. “Maybe I wouldn’t hide stuff if people didn’t judge me the second they saw it.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m worried about you!”
“Well, stop! You don’t know everything.” My voice starts getting closer to a shout. A part of me registers that Sarah is upstairs with Huxley, but I’m too heated to care.
Simone’s eyebrows knit together, and I see the hurt in her expression. “I’m trying to be here for you. But if you shut me out and snap at me—”
“I said, drop it! God, just leave it alone.”
