Page 99 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
She appears just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. I’m about to apologize for almost running her over when I stop myself. Fuck that. I look the other way and am walking around her when she grabs my arm.
“Sienna. Can we talk?”
I’m debating whether I can tell her to fuck herself in the middle of the counseling office when I get a good look at her face. Her eyes are swollen, and her nose is red. She has a wad of tissue in her hands. Her usual French manicure is badly chipped.
I stand there, trying to dredge up the rage I felt when I caught her in bed with Cal, but all I feel is annoyance that she made fun of my small boobs. Because, really, she’s welcome to that scumbag.
“What do you want, Destiny? Didn’t you get all of your jollies by tagging me in those pics of you and Cal over break?”
She blinks and shakes her head. “I swear I never tagged you in anything.”
A laugh escapes me. “You mean the same way you would’ve sworn you weren’t sleeping with my boyfriend?”
I head for the door, but she grabs me again. “Please, Sienna. I know you have no reason to listen to me, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”
I’m about to tell her that’s really not my problem when she starts to cry. And not just a few tears and a lower lip quiver. A full-out torrent.
I let out a big breath. Destiny and I will never be friends again, but it’s not my style to kick someone when they’re down.
“What’s wrong? Did Cal dump you already?” I don’t mean to be quite so bitchy, but the words escape me before I think better of it.
She starts to cry harder.
Yikes. I was just taking a shot in the dark. I didn’t think he’d really dump her. She seemed happy accepting whatever he was willing to give her when he wasn’t banging other women.
But then she says the last thing I expect.
“I’m pre—pre—pregnant, but Cal insists it isn’t his. Except I haven’t—haven’t—I haven’t been with anyone else. And how the hell can I play on the volleyball team this year if I’m waddling around?” she wails.
Well, damn.
Now I feel like an ass. Not that I forgive her, but that does suck.
We sit outside Mrs. Uvalde’s office while Destiny wails and tells me about her relationship with Cal. I’ll admit it’s surreal to hear what my ex was doing behind my back with Destiny, but I find it doesn’t bother me. Because I’m really happy with Ben. With our friendship and everything else.
The universe did me a favor by helping me discover what a rat Cal was. As I look at Destiny, who sobs into a soggy tissue, I realize this could be me. I could be sitting here hysterical because that dumbass knocked me up and dumped me.
Dodged a bullet there.
One of the secretaries interrupts us. “Girls, our hours are shorter on Saturday. We’re closing soon.”
As Destiny and I head out, I ask her what she’s going to do.
She sniffs as her puffy eyes narrow. “I’m gonna get even with that motherfucker.”
If anyone deserves to have his ass kicked for douchebaggery, it’s Cal Winston.
But Confucius once said, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” It’s why, no matter how horribly Cal treated me, I won’t be the one to get even.
Maybe Destiny will.
And it’s possible I might be rooting for her.
