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“Just keep it,” I tell her. “I’ll bring her by again after school tomorrow. Aiden has inventory anyway, so he’ll probably be late.”
“How are things on that front?”
I keep my face neutral, appearing interested in a piece of fuzz on my shirt. “Oh, you know. They’re okay.”
“Just okay, huh?”
“Yeah.” I manage to pick the bit of lint away, rolling it between my fingers to look busy. “I think it’s all going to work out fine. Aiden still doesn’t know who I am, so as long as I keep being careful, I think that everything will be—”
“What have I told you about lying to me?”
I look up at her with surprise. “What?”
“I told you, only liars use ‘fine.’ ”
“Oh, that’s a bunch of bullshit, and you know it.”
“Now, don’t think you’re so spry that I can’t whoop your ass.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously, everything is okay.”
“Cassie.”
I worry at my lower lip, averting my eyes to the old shag carpet beneath my feet. I think I’m afraid if I say it out loud that it will somehow jinx everything. It’s only been a week since we got back from our trip, and every time Aiden touches me (which seems to be any stolen moment he can find the chance to do so), I think that this will be the time he finds out. I’ve been careful to keep my scar hidden from him, and if he thinks it’s weird that I keep avoiding taking off my shirt or that I’m always pulling him into a position that hides my back—he hasn’t said anything yet.
“He hasn’t figured it out,” I say again. “Who I am.”
“But something is different,” Wanda accuses. “You look more nervous than a prize turkey in November.”
“Did you know only male turkeys gobble?”
“Little girl, if you don’t tell me what happened right this second...”
“I—” I make a frustrated sound, falling back against her couch cushions and grabbing for one of the throw pillows to press to my face to whine her name. “Wanda.”
“Oh boy. What did you do?”
I keep the pillow against my face, mumbling into the fabric. “I slept with him.”
“What? Can’t hear you.”
“Isleptwith him,” I say louder, peeking over the pillow.
Wanda blinks back at me with an unreadable expression, dumbstruck for a few seconds before she blows out a breath through her lips with a shake of her head. “Well, shit.”
“I know.”
“Was it good?”
“That’syour follow-up?”
She raises her hands innocently. “What? If you’re going to hell anyway, you might as well enjoy it.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me what a bad idea this is?”
“Oh, it’s a terrible idea, but it’s also been, what? Like eighteen months since you got any?”
“I told you that in confidence,” I grumble.
