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Her mouth twists.
Judgement hardens her face.
Then she draws away from the door and creeps down the last leg of the hall. The bathroom door is open already, so she slides inside, flicks on the light, and closes the door behind her.
Her fingers pinch the golden metal latch and turn.
It locks with a faintclick.
“Just checked in on Care and Grace,” Kate whispers into the cell.
“Were they doin’ it?”
She turns on the shower’s faucet, and in an instant, hot water is blasting out in billows of steam. “No, you creep.”
“Not even kissing?” Trevor presses. “You can’t convince me they’re not scissoring on the regular.”
“Cuddling.” Kate tugs off her socks with her free hand, the other hand turning clammy against the plastic-case of her cell pressed to her ear. “I wouldn’t call it friendly cuddling. More like a pretzel made of two people whose mouths are… too close together.”
“Told you. Lezzos.”
Like before, her smile is slight and terribly quick to fade. It wasn’t that long ago that she would gossip with Trev over the phone about something like this.
Carmine and Grace obviously lusting after each other, ‘have they or haven’t they’?
Billie and Preston, ‘why are they fighting now, who did what to who’?
Tonya and Gigi, ‘how much longer can Kate stand their presence, pretend to be their friend’ just to keep their mouths shut about Henry?
Kate enjoys a bit of gossip as much as she enjoys her morning coffee. Helps you get through the day just that little bit more.
But tonight?
No, there’s no thirst for gossip in her tonight. There’s no smile at Trevor’s slurs hurled at Carmine and Grace. There’s no laughter in finding those two latched onto each other in bed.
It’s just… empty.
“I have to go,” Kate says. “This shower’s turning the place into a steam room.”
“One day,” Trevor starts with a sigh, “there will be camera cells, and you won’t have to hang up. You could shower… on video… and I’ll watch.”
“Sounds invasive.”
“I would like to invade you tomorrow, if you’re free?”
“Trevor.” Her tone takes a disapproving turn. “Don’t be crass.”
“You say crass, I say polite and respectful enough to pencil myself into your crammed schedule,” he says. “Really though, are you coming tomorrow?”
Her mind goes blank. “To what?”
“Drinks. At mine. Parents in the city. Whole house is empty. Booze, beer pong, weed, coke…”
“Oh,” Kate nods as though he can somehow see the gesture through the cell. “Yes, I forgot. I’ll bring the girls.”
His monotonous answer is a mere, “Great.”
Sounds anything but enthused.
