Page 6 of Whiskey Poison


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“He’s just an accountant for the FBI, right?” I butt in. “He’s not, like, an actual agent.”

I’ve met Wayne plenty of times, but his job is kind of a blur. He has a soft chin, a receding hairline, and a vapid smile. He isn’t what television has taught me to think of as someone who works for the FBI.

“He’s a forensic accountant,” Noelle agrees. “Which is sort of like an agent, but he specializes in white collar crimes. He also is not recording my conversations, so no one needs to know that I’m planning to kill Jason and plant his head on a spike in my front yard.”

Ashley gives us a weak smile. “It’s fine. I went there to end things and… well, they’re ended now. I won’t be seeing him again.”

I try to toss a dubious look at Noelle, but video chatting doesn’t really facilitate body language. I doubt Ashley will ever be truly done with Jason. Mostly because I doubt she will ever be truly clean. She’s a third-generation addict and still in deep, despite her latest trip to rehab.

“If you need anything—” I start.

“No,” she snaps. “This is why I left my camera off. This is about you, Piper. You had a traumatic experience. A black eye is just another day for me.”

Noelle practically screams in frustration. “What is wrong with the two of you? Press charges. Both of you! None of this is normal. This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you acting like you have any idea what this is like,” Ashley says.

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence.

“What does that mean?” Noelle asks finally.

I cover my eyes. “C’mon, you two. Can we not do this?”

I’m the peacemaker. I’ve always played that role, for my friends and everyone else. Noelle is the boss lady and Ashley is the wild card. The two of them butt heads more often than not, and I’m not in the right headspace to properly referee them tonight.

“No, let’s do it,” Ashley sniffs, bending closer to her camera. “Noelle sits in a cushy office and lives in a fancy loft apartment with her boyfriend and wants to act like she knows what it’s like forus.”

Noelle rolls her eyes. “Spare me the melodrama. It’s not like we’re from different sides of the tracks, okay? We grew up in the same apartment complex, for God’s sake. But while you were out getting fucked-up with Jason and Mychal and Elijah and I-can’t-even-remember-who-else, I got scholarships and went to college and made something of myself. You don’t get to be mad at me for that.”

“Are you saying I haven’t made something of myself?” Ashley snaps. “Are you saying—”

“Stop!” I yell loudly enough that Mrs. Shaban next door is probably going to knock on our shared wall to tell me to keep it down.

Thankfully, it works. I feel both of their eyes flit to me.

“Can I tell you how this is going to go?” I ask. “Because I already know. Ashley is going to accuse Noelle of never really liking her—”

“Of course I like you!” Noelle interrupts.

“And Noelle is going to accuse Ashley of thinking she is stuck-up—”

“She is sometimes.” Ashley shrugs unapologetically.

“Then you’re both going to cry,” I finish. “Then, when you’re cried out, you’ll apologize and make nice and we’ll end the conversation laughing like normal. So how about we skip the drama and go to the laughing? I’ve had a long day.”

They both look like kids who just lost their favorite toy, but I can tell they know I’m right. Noelle is the first to admit it.

“Fine,” she huffs. “We’re too old for this shit anyway.”

“Stop telling Piper and me how to live our lives and we’ll be fine,” Ashley retorts. “But you know I love you, Ellie Bellie.”

Noelle’s eyes go watery, even though she’s always hated that nickname. “I love you, too, Smashley.”

“Great,” I conclude. “Now that that’s settled, I still have to prep for work tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Noelle drawls. “You need to decompress and handle your personal business. You think you’re fine now, but the body keeps the score, girl. You’re going to be a mess the moment you try to relax.”

Part of me is terrified Noelle is right, but I really don’t have time to process this trauma. Besides, I have a lifetime of it built up inside of me somewhere. I’ve managed that okay.

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