Chapter Twenty-three
ASTRID SAT INthe front seat of Claire’s Prius, hugging her bag to her lap while Claire drove through town.
“Josh said he’d handle the party,” Claire said. “Lock up when everyone’s gone in case we’re here for a long time.”
Astrid nodded.
“Ruby’s headed to his house for the weekend anyway,” Claire said.
“Good,” Astrid said.
“I hope Iris is okay.”
“Me too.”
“I mean, I’m not Jillian’s biggest fan, but still.”
“Yeah.”
Claire cleared her throat. Astrid knew her best friend wouldn’t bring up Astrid’s make-out session. She also knew Claire yammering on about other things was her attempt to get Astrid to talk about it.
Which she was not going to do.
Not that she didn’t trust Claire with the information, but she still needed to process it all herself. She and Jordan had kissed. No, they’dmade out. Heatedly. So much so that Astrid could feel how damp her underwear was right now. While it wasn’t the most comfortable she’d ever been and she wouldn’t mind putting on a clean pair, particularly now that the kissing was over, she couldn’t help the smile that kept settling on her face as she thought about every single detail of the last half hour.
When Claire pulled up in front of Iris’s apartment building downtown, Astrid wasted no time getting out of the car. Claire followed in silence, though Astrid could almostfeelher questions.
“Hey,” Claire said as they stopped outside Iris’s unit.
Astrid braced herself, keeping her eyes on the door and rapping three times with her knuckles. “Yeah?”
“Um, well,” said Claire. “You might want to—”
The door swung open to reveal Delilah holding a full glass of water, an unopened box of tissues tucked under one arm. Astrid started to ask how Iris was, but Delilah spoke first.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?” she asked.
She was looking at Astrid, her eyes wide and her brows lifted.
“What are you talking about?” Astrid asked.
“Um,” Claire said, then circled her hand around her own face before pointing at her hair.
Astrid’s hand flew to her head, a sinking feeling settling into her stomach. She stepped inside, all but shoving Delilah out of the way, and found the colorful framed mirror Iris had hanging in the entryway.
“Oh my god,” she said when she saw her reflection. Her hair was a mess, sticking up and parted weirdly from Jordan’s hands running through it, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that her lipstick—a dark pink rose color she’d forgotten she even put on when she was getting ready—was smeared all over the lower half of her face.
All. Over.
She looked like a clown with a penchant for long-lasting lip stain. Working her hand over her mouth, she tried to remove the evidence, but she only managed to make it worse.
“Here,” Claire said, heading over to the kitchen, wetting a paper towel under the sink and adding a dot of hand soap. “This should do it.” She handed the towel to Astrid, who proceeded to clean off her still-swollen lips while Delilah watched her with a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Don’t you say a word,” Astrid said, wiping furiously.
“I wasn’t gonna,” Delilah said, still smiling.
“Wait, you knew about this?” Claire asked.
