“So,” Sasha said, making a clicking sound with her tongue.
Daphne could only laugh. It wasn’t necessarily a pleasant sound, but it was better than breaking down into tears. Maybe she was growing, but the small feeling in the center of her chest indicated otherwise.
“So,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“That sounded intense.”
“You have no idea,” Daphne said, letting her head thunk against the wall and closing her eyes.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Sasha asked. She leaned against the wall as well, one ankle crossed over the other.
And god, Daphne actually did. Of course, she’d told Vivian all about the breakup when it had happened, and April clearlyknew, but there was no one Daphne could really talk to about April herself.
The confusing, mysterious, bruise-like conundrum who was April Evans.
So she slid down the wall until she was sitting, then crossed her legs. Sasha sat too, resting her forearms on her knees.
“Remember my ex who cheated on someone with me?” Daphne said.
Sasha lifted a single devastating brow. “I do.”
“That someone was April.” Daphne went on to explain the particulars of the last week and a half, including Nicola Reece and how Daphne and April were pretty much competing against each other for the chance of a lifetime.
Sasha steepled her fingers. “Wait. So April is…”
“Yeah.”
“And Elena was—”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And you never knew she was—”
“Nope.”
“And now the Devon,” Sasha said.
“I could not make this stuff up,” Daphne said.
“Fucking hell,” Sasha said, sending a hand through her hair. “I mean,fuck.”
Daphne laughed—a true laugh this time. It felt good to have someone completely unrelated to the mess that was her life verify that it was, indeed, a mess.
“What’s with all the fucks?”
Both Sasha and Daphne swung their heads toward the new voice—April Evans herself walking down the hall. Sasha got to her feet.
“Okay, that’s it,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“What’s it?” April asked. “Am I in trouble?”
“More like in desperate need of some fun,” Sasha said as Daphne stood as well. “I mean, look at you two. The hair is hot, Daphne, but seriously?”
“You think my hair is hot?” Daphne asked, fingers playing with the ends.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Tonight. Dance studio.”
“Are we learning the foxtrot?” April asked.
