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“He’s probably a pervert,” Sierra says.
Alana laughs, but Kelly elbows her in the ribs. “Shush,” she says. “I want to hear from Trine.”
“There’s nothing to hear,” I say, biting down on my lower lip. “One of them was in front of me, the other one was behind me, and I was…”
“Spit roasted?” Bryony helpfully asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I guess.”
“How was it? Was it fun?” Alana says. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
I nod, blushing. They’re surrounding us now, all four girls staring at me as if I’m about to tell them every detail. “Yes,” I say. “It was super fucking fun. Next time I’ll let them both fuck me at the same time.”
“Oh my god,” Alana says. “I’m so jealous.”
They ask me more questions, and they crack open the wine at the same time. After an hour or two, we’re all giggly messes. We’re eating from three different pizza boxes—pepperoni, plain and pesto chicken because Sierra is a freak—and drinking while we talk about the weirdest sex we’ve ever had.
After we’re all exhausted and a bit too drunk to talk, I slump down on the sofa and look at the popcorn ceiling above me. “Something else happened today,” I say.
“Yes,” Alana says. “This is gonna be great.”
My hand goes up to my neck, and I touch it as I shake my head. “No,” I say. “It wasn’t a sex thing. I mean, I don’t think it was a sex thing.”
After a few boos and jeers, the girls settle down.
“I went to an exorcism today.”
“Okay, spooky,” Sierra says.
“Right,” I reply. “And I think he tried to kill me.”
“What?”
I’m not sure who asks this, but they’re talking over each other again to the point where it’s hard for me to discern anything anyone’s saying. Once they wind down, I close my eyes and speak quietly. I don’t know what I want from them, but I want to tell someone other than the exorcists about this. I need to be careful about details, though. I don’t want them to know it’s someone we know.
“So,” I say. “They told me I could help with an exorcism, and I got there, and this kid tried to strangle me.”
“Did you go to the police?” Alana asks.
Someone snickers, but I just shake my head. “No, mostly because I don’t think he meant to do it,” I say. “It’s…complicated. I did go see a counselor right afterward, so I don’t need like, mental health help. I just needed to get it off my chest.”
Bryony squeezes my shoulder. “Well, if you need to talk about it, we’re here.”
“Can I ask you guys something?” I ask, my eyes closed.
“Of course, babe,” Alana said, slumping down next to me. “Anything you need.”
“What was I like?” I continue. “A couple of years ago. When…before I got the exorcism, I guess.”
Something happens. Whereas they were giggly and excited before, a somber mood takes hold of the living room, and I immediately feel bad I asked.
“Trine, do you really not remember?” Bryony says. She sounds genuinely upset, which surprises me. “You just…”
“You stopped talking to us,” Alana says. “Stopped coming to rehearsal. Didn’t show up to our shows. We were so worried about you.”
I shake my head. I didn’t expect this, but I’m suddenly fighting back tears, too. “Thank you,” I say. “For sticking by me even when I sucked.”
“You didn’t suck,” Alana says, inching closer to me. “You’re our friend. We love you. We’re just glad it’s not something you have to think about anymore.”
They really do seem very concerned. How can I possibly tell them that it’s all I can think about right now?
