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Patrick’s deep voice came through the door. “It’s us.”
28
Build Me Up From Bones
Christina
I flung open the door.
Sydney stood in front of me. Water streamed from her blonde hair onto her tank top and shorts, and she held a wet grocery bag. Patrick stood on one side of her, Marcus on the other. Amelia leaned on Marcus’s free arm, looking interested.
No one was touching Sydney, but it was clear she’d been escorted here.
I stepped back. “What the hell?”
Sydney marched in, turned the bag over my kitchen table, and shook it.
Out fluttered bills, green and white. The heart-shaped box, brightly collaged, fell to the table. A bottle of pills bounced and rolled onto the floor.
“Sydney, oh my God!” I gasped. “Where did you find these? Thank you.Thank you.I don’t know how to—”
I broke off. Her pretty face, blotchy under the rain and makeup, wore an odd combination of defiance and guilt.
“Shit,” I whispered, backing away from her. “Not you. Please say it wasn’t you.”
Ignoring me, she turned to Patrick. “Are we done?”
He crossed his arms. “That’s up to Christina.”
The bills stirred in the breeze from the ceiling fan.
“No! No, we’re not done. What is going on? Are these mine? Sydney, did you take them?”
Lashes flickering, she wiped away a fleck of mascara. “It was a joke!” she snarled. “Just a prank. Jesus. I was having fun. We used to prank each other all the time, before you methim.”
She pointed at Patrick, who raised an eyebrow.
“You mean, before you started sleeping with my boyfriend. Was that a prank too?” My voice leapt out of me like it belonged to someone else. Sydney’s mouth fell open. Marcus let out a long, low whistle.
Sydney whirled. “Shut up. I was going to give it back. Just not right away.”
“So I could be miserable?” I shoved a chair toward the fridge. “Terrified?Violated in my own house? You wrecked my room too!”
“Don’t be so fucking dramatic!” Sydney snapped.
“Right,” said Patrick. “That’s your territory.”
“Why would you do this? You ripped the sketch Patrick made for me! You wrote on my mirror—”
“Christina, can we please discuss this in private?”
“No.”
She tossed her hair. Her face contorted. “I was only telling the truth. Everyone calls me a slut, but you're a bigger one than I'll ever be. You’re a fucking prostitute! You lied to all of us.”
“I was done with the money,” I said in a low voice. “I would have given it all back to him.”
Everyone glanced at Patrick, who flinched.
