“I knew it,” Simone says bitterly. “I knew you were sleeping together. You started in St. Lulia, didn’t you?”
“Good morning, Simone,” Deiss says. “I hope you slept well.”
“We all made a pact. Do you remember that?” Simone’s scorching eyes follow him as he walks into the kitchen to start the coffee. “You vowed to care more about us and our friendships than your restless dick.”
“Okay,” I say, cringing. “Let’s take this down a notch.”
“You know this is going to destroy her, right?” Simone barrels on, ignoring me. All her attention is focused firmly on Deiss. “She’s not like us. She doesn’t have anyone else. When you drop her, she’s going to end up all alone.”
Her words cut sharply, making me want to speak up again. But what would I say? We all know she’s right. I haven’t joined an organized sisterhood or cultivated a following on Friendsta. I haven’t bonded with bands or built a home for fellow music lovers. I’ve kept my world small. Cubicle-sized.
“So, I won’t drop her,” Deiss says coolly.
“Please.” Simone sneers. “Your longest romantic relationship was with a Blow Pop.”
“Okay,” I say again. “This is not productive. Deiss, can I please get a moment alone with Simone?”
“Yeah.” Deiss looks uncertainly between the two of us like he doesn’t like the idea of leaving me alone with one of my oldest friends. Finally, he rubs his hand over the back of his head. “I need to go to the shop anyway and make sure they cleaned everything up after the concert. We’ll head to Brantley when you’re done.”
Without waiting for his coffee, he grabs a t-shirt from his room, pulling it over his head as he passes between us. I catch an expression of longing on Simone’s face that mirrors my own. The loft goes painfully quiet when the door clicks shut behind him, and I feel a pang of distress at the loss of him and how quickly our romantic morning has deteriorated.
“I’m really sorry,” I say, filling the silence. “I’m sorry that we upset you, and that we broke the pact, and I’m especially sorry if you had to hear anything we might’ve done while we were in his room.”
“We.” Simone scoffs. “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now?”
I flinch at the jab. “I didn’t mean—”
“You can’t really think you two are some kind of couple,” she says, interrupting me. “He’s Lucas Deiss. You’ve witnessed firsthand how many women he’s been through. Never once has he referred to one of them as his girlfriend. How delusional are you?”
“Don’t talk to me like that.” My face is a perfect mask, my eyes dammed against the well of tears that have rushed to the surface. “I know you’re annoyed that I broke the pact, but that’s no excuse.”
“I didn’t . . .” Her breathing flares, and she presses the back of her hands to her eyes. Her tone softens. “It’s just not fair.”
And there it is.
My stomach sinks. I was hoping her pride would keep her from addressing it. After all, it’s not like she’s been holding out for Lucas Deiss all these years. She even got engaged once, although she dumped the poor sap when her eye was turned by a waiter in Paris. Still, it can’t feel good to discover Deiss’s interest could be piqued—just by me instead of her.
“You’re a beautiful, confident, smart, and funny woman,” I say. “Our roles could easily have been reversed.”
Her eyes swell before they narrow, turning dark with rage. “Are you seriously giving me some kind of pep talk? Do you think I’m jealous of you?”
If words could take physical form, hers would be poisoned steel arrows.
“No,” I say quickly. “Of course not.”
“I wasn’t saying that it wasn’t fair that I’m not with a man who has the staying power of a Popsicle in the Sahara. Obviously. I just meant that it’s not fair that the rest of us are going to have to pick up the pieces when this thing falls apart. Have you even thought about that, Olivia? Have you considered the rest of us even for a moment?”
I feel a flare of rage of my own. Or maybe it’s just panic. “Have you considered the fact that it might not fall apart?”
She snickers meanly. “The boy has his charms, but let’s face it, Deiss doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“He does,” I insist. “He cares about his friends. He loves us.”