I opened my mouth, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. "And where wereyouthat night?"
She sat back, like I'd just slapped her. "What are you implying? ThatIwas the one with Griff?"
"What? No. I never said that."
Her gaze hardened. "But you were thinking it."
Was I?I didn't think so.But maybe I was being naïve.I'd been accused of that before, especially by Delaney, who always said I was far too trusting.
Was Delaney right?
She'd been right about Devon, that's for sure.
Into my silence, Tessa said, "So that's what you think? That he was withme?"
"No. Of course not." But then, rattled by her reaction, I mumbled, "Not really."
"Not really?" She looked beyond insulted. "What doesthatmean?"
"I dunno…" My chin lifted. "Maybe I'm sick of the secrets."
"Whose? Mine?"
For some reason, it was the final straw. I threw up my hands. "Everyone's. And yeah, including yours."
She was glaring daggers now. "Alright. You wanna hear a secret?"
Judging from her face, I wasn't so sure. Still, I made myself nod and braced for bad news.
"Okay, here's a big one." Her voice rose. "I don'twantto sleep with your boyfriend."
Boyfriend?The word hit hard. The only time he'd used that word was when we were faking it.And after? Well, things were kind of vague."But we never – "
"I don't care if it was official or not. He wasyourguy, not mine. And I wouldneverdo that."
"I never said – "
She cut me off. "And you wanna know why?"
I gave a hard swallow. "Why?"
"Two reasons." She held up a finger. "Reason number one. That isn't me. It never has been." She held up a second finger. "Reason number two. Even if Iwerethat type of person, which I'm definitely not, Ithoughtyou and I were friends." And with that, she abruptly stood.
And now, I felt like the worst person in the world. "Tessa – "
"Just stop it," she said. "And as far as Griff, the guy's crazy about you. That's beyond obvious. So, maybe instead of asking me whereIwas, you should askhim."
With a huff, she turned and stormed away. A moment later, I heard her stomping up the stairs toward her bedroom. She didn't quite slam her bedroom door, but the sound of it shutting managed to echo throughout the whole house.
As for myself, I stayed on the couch to cry. I wasn't loud. I wasn't dramatic. But Iwasoblivious to everything except my own heartbreak – because the way it looked, I'd just lost the two people who'd come to matter most.
Worst of all?In both cases, it might be my own fault.
Or – and here was the real kicker – maybeIwas totally innocent, which made both of them what, exactly?
Guilty?
But of what? And with who?
