Page 104 of Relapse

“I don’t need to look hot. I already got laid.”

Chelsea snorted, not even looking up from the rack and kept flipping through dresses. “Yeah, okay, Delane.”

I paused for a minute. Then I tried again. “Chels,” I said.

She turned, making eye contact with me.

“I had sex with Noah.”

Chelsea’s head cocked to the side and she studied me, trying to make sense of my statement. I tried my best to be serious, but the minute I saw her gears turning, I couldn’t help myself, I smiled. I knew my red cheeks would give me away at any moment.

Her mouth dropped. She knew then I wasn’t lying.

“Oh—” she clutched her chest like she was having a heart attack, and instantly I regretted telling her this secret in a crowded department store.

“Ohhhhh. Myyyyy. GAWD!!” she shrieked. Everyone within a twenty foot radius turned at the sound, and almost immediately, I transformed into a middle aged parent trying to shush their disruptive child.

“Chelsea, stoppppp,” I begged, holding her by the arms as she started to sink to the literal floor in the store.

“I can’t believe this!” Her mouth still hung open, the clothes she was holding clattered to the ground beneath her loudly.

A manager from across the room was already making a beeline in our direction. My panic was in full effect.

“Dammit, Chelsea! Believe it or not, just stand up before they call EMS, kick us out, or both!” I hissed.

Chelsea was glaring at me now, the fire in her eyes making me sweat. She still hadn’t picked herself off of the floor. “How. Fucking. Dare you, Delane! You let me—” Her voice cracked, mid scream. “You let me go on and on about how you need to get laid, how you’re wasting your prime years, and you’ve been walking around fucked this whole time?”

Two girls shopping at a nearby rack were frozen looking at the same top, not daring to glance in our direction, but most certainly listening for my reply. Enjoying the drama. That I caused. Shit.

Chelsea was standing now—thank God, but still whining. “What kind of best friend are you? How long?”

“Can I help you ladies with something?” The manager had finally reached us.

To my horror, Chelsea turned to address her. “Yes, actually, where do you keep the section of clothes for lying-ass bitches?”

The girls next to us laughed aloud and I stewed.

The manager’s fake smile had frozen into something professional and terrified. “I... perhaps the clearance section?” she offered weakly, her eyes darting between Chelsea’s face and the pile of scattered clothing.

“Perfect,” Chelsea snapped. “Because my friend here is clearly used to cheap secrets!”

The two girls at the nearby rack were outright staring now, phones subtly angled in our direction. I could see the reflection in the mirror—their barely suppressed grins, the way one of them mouthed oh my god to the other. They weren’t even bothering to fake look through clothing anymore.

I stepped forward, grabbing Chelsea’s elbow before she could launch into another performance. “We’re fine,” I told the manager, my voice tight. “We’ll clean this up. And we are going to buy a few of these outfits. I am so sorry.”

Chelsea tried to jerk away.

“Stop it,” I hissed, low enough that the eavesdroppers would have to strain to hear. “You’re making a scene.”

“I am the scene,” she said, but her voice wavered some. She wasn’t as committed to the rage as she wanted to be. In fact, she was starting to look a bit hurt. And that made me feel even worse.

I bent down, scooping up the discarded clothes—a mesh bodysuit, leather skirt, the sequined dress she’d been so excited about a few minutes ago. I held them against my chest like a shield. “I should have told you,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know how. And the more I waited, the more I was afraid of how mad you’d be. And I was right.”

Chelsea bent down to the ground with me. She was listening.

“It happened after we got back from burying mom and dad,” I admitted. “That’s how long it’s been. I didn’t say anything because... because I really wasn’t in the best place. It was fueled by messy feelings and…” I gestured helplessly at the mess around us. “Part of me regrets how I behaved. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I was so sad.”

Chelsea’s eyes started to water, and I had to hold it together or I’d be crying soon also.