Page 15 of Secrets and Lies
“Is that a vintage bag?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“No, it’s from the new collection. I told you that earlier.” She gives me the same look I probably gave my nephew when he asked if lighting his shoes on fire would make him run faster.
“I mean vintage inspired,” I say quickly. “I couldn’t place it before, but it looks like one of the bags my grandma had when I was a kid.”
Her eyes narrow as she shoots me a flat look. “I highly doubt that. You must be remembering wrong.”
I have to physically bite my lip so I don’t say something stupid, like how her bag actually looks cheap compared to my grandmother’s. Sometimes my mouth gets me in trouble and says stuff my brain hasn’t consented to.
Thank fuck this isn’t one of those times.
“Yeah, probably,” I tell her as I get up off her bed.
I’m almost positive that my memories of my grandmother’s bag are real and I didn’t make a mistake, but this is one of those things it’s better to just let go than be right.
She smiles, but again, there’s something off about it, and she doesn’t say anything as we leave her room together.
We don’t talk at all as we take the elevator down to the main floor of Belmont House, and her friends are waiting for her near the entrance as we step into the lobby.
“Have fun,” I say as she waves excitedly to them.
She tosses me a quick smile over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the shiny marble floor as she hurries over to them. I continue toward the main door and try not to read into the fact that she didn’t kiss me goodbye.
Or about how this seems to be happening more often than not.
Back when we first got together, McKenna made a rule that we couldn’t go to bed angry at each other, and we always had to kiss goodbye.
The not going to bed angry rule really came in hand during those early days while we were still adjusting to going from friends to more. We had our share of disagreements and stupid fights, but we always ironed everything out before we went to bed, and that stopped all those small things from becoming bigger issues later on.
But now it’s like we’re both going out of our way to not ruffle the other’s feathers, so while we’re not disagreeing or fighting, we’re also not really talking anymore. Not like we used to.
I do my best to shove that train of thought to the back of my head and pull my phone out of my pocket as I head toward Romeo House.
I don’t want to think about any of this right now. I need a break from thinking.
I pull up my text thread with Damon and send him a quick message.
West: what are you doing tonight?
My screen goes dark without him reading my text, but that’s not exactly surprising. Damon is my best friend, and I love him like a brother, but he sucks at answering texts or DMs.
And that was before he got a boyfriend. Now it’s nearly impossible to get hold of him unless I track him down and have a face-to-face conversation with him.
My cheeks flush hot, and I shove my phone back in my pocket as I pick up my pace.
The night I found out that my best friend was in a secret relationship with a guy was one of the most awkward and confusing moments of my life.
I already figured Damon was seeing someone, considering how secretive he was being, and the hickeys that kept appearing on his neck were a pretty solid indicator that he was getting some. But I never expected him to be hooking up with Xavier Hawthorne, a high-ranking member of the Rebels, a rival frat to ours.
I originally went to his room to talk to him about his side gig, but I ended up walking in on him and Xave when they were getting their freak on.
I didn’t get an eyeful of anything I shouldn’t have, and they were fully dressed, but seeing my best friend wrapped around another man was a shock, and I’m not proud of how I reacted.
Instead of apologizing and talking about it like a rational person, or just leaving the room and waiting for him to find me later, I panicked. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I do remember begging Damon not to let his boyfriend kill me, stumbling over my words and probably coming across like a homophobic twatwaffle when I was trying to explain that I wasn’t reacting to him being with a guy, I was freaking out over him being with a Rebel, especially one with Xave’s reputation and status.
Thankfully Damon understands that I tend to act like a moron when I flail, and what I say isn’t always what I mean when I get flustered, so we were able to get past everything pretty quickly.
The looming silhouette of Romeo House appears as I cut around a sharp corner, and I pull my ID out of my pocket when I approach the main gates.
