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Candace smiled. “I will be here. For both of you.” She picked up a piece of popcorn and tossed it in her mouth. “Now, for the fun part. Tell me about Beau.”
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I sighed and launched into my recount of our fake date.
The pancakes were on the table and Candace had already cleared the counter from our messy production line. Nina should be here any second.
“Don’t worry, London. She’s going to be ok.” Candace tried to reassure me, but it wasn’t working.
My palms were sweaty. When I heard the front door open, I shook my hands by my side like I did every time before the curtain went up. It usually calmed me. I pushed the syrup to the center of the table.
“Hey, babe.” Candace greeted Nina.
She glanced over the orange juice glasses and the pancakes on the table. “Derek told me you’d try something like this.”
Candace and I exchanged puzzled looks.
“What do you mean?” I was nervous to ask her.
“London, I’m not mad. Derek told me what happened last night.”
Again, I looked at my other roommate. I was utterly confused.
“What exactly did he tell you?” I shook my hands again, and slapped them against my leg to stop the calming ritual.
“He told me you hit on him, but I knew it was probably just to make Beau jealous. Sounds like it worked.”
I didn’t know what to say. Derek had twisted everything around and Nina bought every lying word. Why did he even care if Nina was mad? He was just using her and stringing her along. It didn’t matter anymore what his intentions were—I knew mine.
“Nina, he’s lying.” That was as bluntly as I could state it.
“What are you talking about? You didn’t hit on him at the concert to make Beau jealous?”
“No. It was the other way around.”
“What? Derek hit on you? That’s not how it happened. It can’t be.”
I sighed. I knew I was breaking Nina’s heart, but it was far worse to let her end up with a conniving bastard. “It wasn’t the first time, Nina. He did it on opening night of Spoiled Hearts.”
“And you’re just now telling me? This isn’t possible. You’re the one who is lying and twisting this all around.” Her eyes seethed with anger.
“I should have said something then, but I just thought I misinterpreted the whole thing—until last night. There was no misinterpreting. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“I slept with him! Twice! Both times after he hit on you!” Her voice filled the kitchen. Candace stayed planted by the counter. “You couldn’t have told me before I did that? And it wasn’t even good the second time!”
“I didn’t know what to do. Please believe me. I didn’t want him to be an asshole. I just thought it was creative moodiness or something. Nina, I’m sorry.”
“You’ve said that. Thanks.” She grabbed the plate of pancakes and walked down the hall.
“Nina?” Candace called.
We heard her bedroom door close with a bang. She left us standing in the kitchen, pancake-less. I slouched into the closest chair.
“What a disaster.”
“She’s going to be ok, London. You had to tell her. Just give her some time. She’ll come around. I haven’t been here much this semester, but I do know you two are too close to let a guy come between your friendship. She just needs time.”
“Thanks, Candace.”
