Page 42 of Good For Me

With a sinking stomach, I lean around the soda machine. The first thing I register is blue. Icy-blue eyes staring right back at me, filled with every bit as much shock as I’m feeling.

“Jas?” River whispers.

This time I know there’s no stopping it. No breathing through it. The rise of nausea in my gut is so swift, so strong, that I’m not even sure I’ll make it to the restroom.

I slap a hand over my mouth and sprint to the back hallway, leaving a bewildered River Ransome behind.

* * *

I don’t knowhow much time has passed when I hear the soft knock on the door. I know it’s Brie—there’s no way she would have let anyone else come down this hallway. I should probably be concerned that she’s left the dining room unattended, but I can’t muster any emotion. Without moving from my spot slumped on the floor, back to the wall, I raise my hand and unlock the door.

Brie doesn’t speak. She merely walks to the sink and wets a paper towel. Then she’s kneeling in front of me, pushing a glass of sprite into my hand. She presses the wet towel against my forehead and I grit my teeth. It takes every ounce of my strength to keep the tears filling my eyes from falling.

“Drink that,” she says. “It will help.”

The combination of carbonation and sugar is exactly what my stomach needs to settle a little. I take a long, slow sip, not wanting to puke again, and then another.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she asks, her voice soft.

I nod once, head sliding across the cool tile wall.

“All that shit you said about not knowing for sure…”

“I hadn’t been with Kurt for months before we broke up.”

She swears. “Okay, first, that guy was such a fucking tool. Second—why didn’t you just tell me it was River?”

I shrug, and there’s no stopping the tears now. “I don’t know. It just felt…I think I was in denial. Hiding, like you said.”

Brie is definitely the kind of person to say I told you so—girl loves to be right—but she keeps her mouth closed, readjusting the cool towel while I take another sip of Sprite.

“I’m confused about the tattoo,” I finally say.

She sighs. “Hannie has strep. Instead of cancelling the appointment, she arranged for me to see the shop’s owner. Total hottie, by the way. Beard, big shoulders, amazing ink—”

“I get it,” I mutter.

“Anyhow. He introduced himself. Will Ransome. And then I could see it.”

“See what?”

“He looks exactly like Cash,” she murmurs.

I let that thought roll around in my head. “Cash is the…drummer?”

“Guitar. Once I put it together, figured out who his dad was, I realized he must be River’s cousin.” She laughs, the sound slightly bitter. “I very nearly kicked his ass. Then I told Chris who he was, and hereallyalmost kicked his ass. It’s a wonder he did such a good job on my tat after that. I thought he might mess it up on purpose.”

I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Jas? You’ve been walking around here like a zombie for the past month. Every time I try to talk to you about it, you freak the fuck out. Or shut down completely.”

I can’t argue with that.

“I was going to tell you,” she goes on. “I figured if nothing else, the cousin would be a way to get in touch with him when you were ready.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” I whisper, the mere thought of the conversation I know I need to have causing another wave of nausea to roll through me.

“But you need to,” she says firmly. “I know it’s scary, babe. But there’s no getting around it.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ll be there with you if you want. Or Chris will. But you need to do it.”