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“Are you sure?” I felt uneasy, like there was something he wasn’t telling me, but I had no clue what.
Flashing his trademark smile, he said, “Sorry, I just remembered something I had to do. It’s no big deal.”
Confused, I murmured, “Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said as he walked away.
I watched him go before I turned and walked through the library doors.
I stayed at the library until my next class, and once that ended, I headed back to the library. My professor had insisted that we use actual books for reference on this paper, not just the Internet. Admittedly, I sort of loved that we had to do that. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone into the library to do actual research. It was pretty cool.
By the time I got home, it was dark. Rachel was already in the shower, prepping for Friday night.
Rubbing my eyes, I pulled a premade salad out of the fridge and headed for the couch, where I plopped down.
“Jess?” Rachel shouted my name from her bedroom. It almost sounded like a question, as if she wasn’t sure if I was home.
“I’m here,” I said, not wanting to move from my comfortable spot in the living room.
She came out of her bedroom, holding her cell phone, and stopped just outside her door. “So,” she said, then hesitated.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“So . . . what?” Taking another bite of my salad, I chewed as I gave her the side eye. She was acting weird.
“Do you know where Nick is?” she asked, her tone cautious.
“I have no idea. Why?” I shifted, her wariness making me uneasy as I placed my salad on top of the coffee table.
“Because—”
When she stopped and took a deep breath, I cocked my head to the side as I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t.
“Oh my gosh,” I yelled. “Just spit it out, Rachel.”
“He’s out with Carla Crawford,” she spat out in a rush. She came toward me slowly, taking small steps as if I might jump out of my seat and attack her if she approached too quickly. “He’s out with her right now. My phone won’t stop blowing up.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal, but the burn of humiliation mixed with shame swirled inside me, a nauseating combination.
Nick wasn’t my boyfriend, so technically he could date whoever he wanted, but for some reason I had stupidly assumed that he wasn’t. Or that he wouldn’t, especially not after what happened between us last night and this morning.
Jesus, was it just this morning that we’d walked to school hand in hand? Now it felt like forever ago.
“Jess, did you hear me?” Rachel’s voice broke through my inner turmoil, her eyes reflecting her concern.
“I heard you,” I all but whispered, training my eyes on a stained spot on the carpet.
“Are you okay?”
I swallowed, surprised that it was difficult, as if my throat was closing up.
“I don’t know. I guess I should have known better, right? You probably think I’m pretty stupid,” I said, projecting my own feelings onto her. I was the one who felt stupid. Idiotic, actually.
Rachel sat down next to me. “I don’t think you’re stupid. He’s an asshole.”
I sucked in a quick breath. “That’s the thing, Rach. He hasn’t been like that to me. He’s been anything but.”
She reached for my knee and gave it a light squeeze. “He’s good at this kind of thing. Nick could sell ice to an ice farmer, and we both know it.”
