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I almost lie out of habit. That’s what I’ve done all this time. There’s no reason to burden anyone else.
Then I think of Maddie, crying in her bed.
“I don’t know.” Unwanted emotions surface and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“What happened?” There’s acreakin the background of the call, like he’s sat down behind his desk. A door closes somewhere nearby. Scott didn’t call me to listen to me complain about my own foolish mistakes, but somewhere in the city, he’s sitting down, ready to listen.
“I don’t know.” I feel sick from how little I know. From how little I asked. From how unwilling she was to confide in me. “Something’s going on with Maddie.”
“Oh,” he says, thoughtful. “And she didn’t tell you what it was?”
“No.” I don’t know how much to tell him. It’s not really my business, what’s happening in Maddie’s life, only…itismy fucking business. I care about her, and I’m not going to stop because something happened that I wasn’t there to prevent. “I went up to see her last night, and she was crying. Told me she wanted me to leave.”
“And have you talked today?”
“No.”
“This was last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Graham. Go knock on her door.”
“I don’t think she wants that.”
“You're her boyfriend. I’m sure she wants that. Even if she doesn’t want to lean on you, she wants to lean on you. Trust me.”
This is the worst possible time to admit that I lied about all the details I gave my friends. “We didn’t meet at the bar. We met at the building.”
Scott lets out a surprised laugh. “At your building, you mean?”
“She lives here. And she fell behind on the rent, so...”
“So you swooped in to be her hero?”
God I love his version so much better. Her hero. I roll my eyes and know damn well I took advantage. If only he knew how much I wanted to tell him that story. If only he knew how much I wanted it to be true.
“In a way.”
“Um...whatkindof way?”
“The kind where she told me she’d do anything if I could help her out with the rent, and I agreed.”
He doesn’t say anything.
I check my phone.
Call’s still connected.
“Scott?”
“You made a deal with her for sex?”
“It sounds terrible when you say it like that.”
“I’m not judging.” I think he might not be. Scott’s always been the most levelheaded of us all. I can hear him drumming his fingertips on the desk in a slow rhythm. “She was into it, I’m assuming, since—”
“Yes, she wasintoit,” I snap. “I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You know that.”
