“I still would’ve liked to have been consulted.”
“I mean, you kind of were.” She shrugs. “I didn’t make you do anything. I just told you Connor was going to break up with Maddie.”
“Which was a lie.” I pick up my glare, hoping my stony, grumpy façade will knock her out of whatever this is.
“Oops.” She giggles with a smile. “Was it? I must have misunderstood him at the bookstore. Oh, I’m such a dumb bunny.”
“I’m sure this was a misunderstanding, too. Huh?” I gesture to the swelling and bruising now shadowing my left eye.
“Oh no, Connor didn’t appreciate finding you in Madeline’s bedroom, so thank you for taking one for the team.” She reaches out and pats my hand. A frosty bite pricks my skin on contact, and I recoil from her touch.
Where’s the warmth that always radiates off every ounce of her?
“There’s no team. This one is on you.”
“I don’t think so. If I remember correctly, you went to Madeline’s house of your own free will, even though that’s bizarre for someone to do when he hates the other person.”
“I wanted to warn her.” I fiddle with the knife from my place setting, rolling it between the pad of my thumb and my finger and focusing on the fluorescent light glinting off the cheap, soap-spotted metal. At least the half-hearted dishwashing at Slow Drip has the decency to remain the same.
“And why did you feel compelled to do that?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Because, for whatever reason, I couldn’t stomach the thought of her getting hurt,” I grumble.
“Hmm. I wonder if that has anything to do with the soulmate thing you laughed at me about.”
“No fucking way.” I shift again, sliding against the worn leather, Jenny’s theory about soulmates and faeries stoking my dumpster fire of a rational mind.
There’s no logical explanation for why I felt compelled to make sure Madeline didn’t get hurt. Or how my heart shattered when I saw a tear roll down her cheek. It took every fiber of my being not to scoop her up and bring her back to her house, wrap her in a blanket, make her a hot beverage, and stay there until I knew she’d be okay again.
I dig the heel of my palms into my closed lids, regretting it when I press too hard on my bruise. God, I’m so fucked up that I can’t even hate people correctly.
But magic, I guess—more than my social ineptitude would also explain why my best friend is possessed by the collective rabid spirit of every mean girl in a romantic comedy.
Whatever it is, the tornado of twirls and churns in my stomach tells me I shouldn’t be here anymore, not when she’s like this.
Vindictive, conniving, calculating her every social move—a Madeline clone.
“When you think about it, you’re perfect for each other, her with her issues, and you with your tragic backstory. You’re both so scared to let anyone in and hurt you.”
With a glance up, the muscles between my brows bunch, puzzling out what Jenny means by any of that. “What issues?” I ask. “No, never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“You know what I’m referring to, anyway.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand and another delicate sip of her coffee.
I blink. Once. Twice. Maybe I can wake myself up from this nightmare. My jaw falls slack. Issues? Issues! That’s what she’s calling it?
Who is sitting in front of me, and where is my Jenny?
I lean over the table, seething with rage. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
Sophomore year, on my way out of class, I sensed something was wrong and wrapped my arms around Madeline before she cracked her head open on the sidewalk. I got her to the nurse’s office, and they called Jenny, who was still her emergency contact person. After a week where I was “way too annoying,” Jenny told me Madeline was okay and explained she had a disease called endometriosis that she didn’t want anyone to know about.
I read a few journal articles I had access to on the disease because I’d never heard of it, and it’s always good to be informed about the ways of the world.
It had nothing to do with my concern for Madeline Finch’s well-being.
Absolutely not.
“Oh. I’m dead serious. Soon everyone else will know she’s been hiding something from all the people she’s supposed to love and trust, and our dear Madeline can see what it’s like to have her friends leave her for a change.
