“You can explain why you’re talking about me behind my back,” she says.
I guess I walked into that one.
Quincy turns around in her chair. “Noelle, it’s not what it sounded like.”
“Okay.” Elle shifts her weight from side to side, shrugging. “Then explain. Or continue. I’d love to hear what you think of me after eightyearsof us barely speaking. Reckless and what else, Q?”
This feels like something I shouldn’t be witnessing. “Ladies, perhaps this discussion to be had in private?—”
The chair legs scrape against the floor, letting out an uncomfortable squealing noise as Quincy pushes to her feet. “I’ve got a meeting I should be getting to. If you’ll excuse me, Professor.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge her sister as she books it from my office, so quickly that the soft scent of her perfume still lingers after she’s long gone. I sit forward, rubbing my eyes.
“Well? Are you fucking her?”
I pause, palms blocking my vision. “Excuse me?”
“My sister. Is that why you can barely look me in the eye during class, because you feel bad about it?” The door is open behind Elle still, yet she continues hurling these ridiculous accusations. “I get it, I guess. She’s smart, calm, and convenient. Why go for the unstable mess when you can have the perfectly wrapped package?”
Slowly, I let my hands fall to the desk. I don’t look right at her, not yet, because I’m afraid that if I do, only a string of swear words will come out.
There’s not a world where I’d pick Quincy over her sister.
I can’t even fully pick my career or sanity over her. Otherwise, I’d have escorted her from the room by now.
Instead, I’m stuck listening to her jealousy, letting it scald long-dormant pieces inside me that I never wanted anyone to see, much less touch.
“She’s in love with someone else though,” Elle continues, as if any of it even matters. “Not that she tells me directly. I have to hear about that stuff from our mother or one of our aunts, because when she came to Avernia, she stopped talking to me. Well,reallytalking. We’d have a call once a week or so, but she never said anything of substance. Never asked me how things were. We talked about the weather, her classes, or our family. Anything to avoid the elephant in the room that destroyed our relationship, which was?—”
“Elle.”
“—when she told me that I wasn’t good enough to make it out west. Said I was naive for moving there instead of going to school. Do you know how much it sucks to have the one person you look up to the most not believe in you? It’s so?—”
“Elle.”
“—dehumanizing.” She sniffles, and I glance over as she wipes her nose with the back of a hand, shaking her head. Her eyes are trained on the ground, and she looks more demure than I’ve seen her. This doesn’t feel like the same girl I met at the gas station or the one who challenges me in class every day.
This Elle is different. Vulnerable in a way that makes me nauseous—because my fingers buzz with the need to console. To provide comfort.
Iacheto reach out and pull her into my embrace. To keep her warm and safe.
But Ican’t.
She clears her throat. “Anyway, I’m just saying. If that’s the kind of person you want to get in bed with, then you should at least know all the details.”
I grit my teeth when she turns toward the door, balling my hands into fists. “Maybe she had a reason.”
Elle pauses in the doorway, lifting one hand to the frame as if to balance herself. “What?”
“For saying those cruel things…for pushing you away.” My heart thuds a slow, unsteady rhythm in my chest, my throat, my wrist. I feel it everywhere when I look at her. “Maybe she was trying to protect you in her own way.”
“I’m not a child who needs to be constantly watched over,” she snaps.
“No,” I agree. “But sometimes it’s not about what you need.”
“Why are you defending her?”
“I don’t know.”
