“So who was that fill-in guy?” Claire asked.
“She still called him Bradley when I ran into them at the ice cream shop the other day.” Jules was loving every second of this. She’d worked hard for this payday and it was probably going exactly like she’d imagined it.
“That was Hayden.”
“Blind-date Hayden? So that really wasn’t a blind date, then. You obviously already knew him.”
“Yes.”
“So that time did you mean to lie?” Claire’s words were ice cold.
“I messed up.”
“You think?” Laney said quietly.
“Why, Gia?” Claire asked.
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?” It felt like it was just Claire and me now. Her icy stare from before turned sad.
“Jules didn’t think Bradley existed. I thought that . . .” I trailed off because it sounded so lame now.
“I’d believed you all along about Bradley.”
“I know. I just thought you wouldn’t that night. I thought it would be the last piece of evidence you needed from her to prove I was a liar.”
“You proved you were a liar pretty easily all on your own.”
My heart sank even further. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you trust in our friendship?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because my relationships have always been so surface. I haven’t really been myself. Ever. I never let anyone in.” I knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it came out of my mouth but it was too late to take it back. “That came out wrong. I didn’t know they were only surface. I thought we had a great relationship until I realized what it was like to really open up.” I closed my eyes. I was only making this worse. “I’m sorry.”
Claire stood. “Glad to know how you feel.” With that she left. Laney paused for one brief moment and then went with her.
I looked at Drew, but he just shook his head in disgust. He was now probably very pleased with himself for making a video about how much I needed validation. “Really, Gia?”
“Please don’t judge me right now.” My voice wobbled when I spoke so I didn’t say anything else.
He tapped Bradley’s arm and jerked his head toward the door and they both walked away. Why didn’t I have a brother who would defend me even if I stole a Popsicle? I leaned my forehead on the table and decided I wasn’t moving until someone made me.
Someone clearing her throat made me look up. How had I not noticed that Jules hadn’t left with the others?
“What?”
“I’ve been to six high schools in four years. Claire was the only person who ever made me feel like I belonged.”
“So that’s what it was always about? You wanted to steal Claire from me?”
“I just knew she deserved better.”
Jules was right. Claire did deserve better than me. I put my forehead back on the table and listened as Jules clicked her way out of the restaurant on her high heels. For the second time in as many days, I realized I needed to call my dad for a ride home. I was stranded.
The problem with having the only person I could really talk to right now be the sister of the person I didn’t want to see ever again was that I was stuck in a car trying to figure out things on my own. It used to be that I could do that really well, back at the beginning of the year. And despite how many people had told me lately that I was different and better and changed, I sure felt lost and angry and alone. I just wanted my old self back. The one who could force a problem away until she could deal with it. But maybe that was the problem—I never ended up dealing with anything.
Something Jules of all people had said stuck in my head. Claire deserved better. She was right. Claire deserved better than a friend like Jules. And I truly thought I could be better. . . . I was better. Better than the stupid lie I’d told over a month ago. Better than the person I’d been at the beginning of the year who didn’t think much about other people aside from how they could help me. I hadn’t even realized I had been that person until now.
I started my car and drove to Claire’s house. I had to deal with this. I’d screwed up. I knocked on her front door, and her mom, who usually invited me in with a smile, positioned her body to block the way.
“I’m sorry, Gia. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”
I thought about that doormat her mom had bought for us that claimed it wasn’t a doormat and how Claire was applying its statement in this moment. I wanted to put a smile on my face, to pretend like everything was or at least would be perfect. Instead I said, “I’ve been a horrible friend. Will you tell her that? There’s no excuse for what I did. Will you just tell her I’m sorry and that maybe she can talk to me one day soon? And will you tell her ‘eighty-three days’?”
Her mom nodded then shut the door.
I wasn’t sure she would tell her all that so I texted it to Claire and my little thought about the doormat and how I was glad she wasn’t letting me get away with my bad behavior but how I hoped she’d forgive me one day. Finally I texted the amount of days until we would be roommates.
The only thing she texted back was We still have thirty days to change roommate preferences.
I stared at that text, standing on the front porch of her house, hoping she wasn’t implying what I thought she was implying. Jules had won. She’d wanted Claire and she’d gotten her.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
At home I thought it would be awkward. That my parents would be angry with me. But I should’ve known better. I walked into the house and found my parents and Drew sitting around the kitchen table and talking. I waited for the angry exclamations but all I got was my dad saying, “Gia, lying is never the answer.”
I waited for more. For anger. Drew grunted like for the last couple of hours he’d been trying to get them riled up over my actions.
“You should’ve seen how they defended you,” I said.
“We stand behind both our children,” my mom said.
“It’s easier to see our mistakes if you face us,” Drew said.
My mom smiled at him like it was a joke, like she thought he was so clever.
“I’m going to my room,” I said, knowing this was going nowhere. My parents were well set in their ways.
“You’re grounded,” Drew called after me.
“Only if you are.”
CHAPTER 35
I awoke to humming. Off-key humming. I cracked one eye open and saw my mom putting stacked clothes of folded laundry on my dresser.