“No. You’re right. It doesn’t. Unless you haven’t got the first fucking clue how to back your shit up and think emailing everything is definitely the way to go.”
“Are you saying here that Tate is that kind of guy or…”
“Tate isdefinitelythat kind of guy. And he’s also the kind of guy who uses one password for everything, meaning I could definitely check if Chad’s claim is true.”
She looked at her friend then, though she didn’t know what she was hoping to find.
Understanding seemed like a long shot, until she saw the hopeful light in Lydia’s eyes.
“I think you should probably…”
“I know I should probably. But I just…I can’t. I can’t. I’m terrified of what I’m going to see. I’m terrified of what I won’t see. I’m terrified of everything always and I don’t know how to stop.”
“Then let me do it for you.”
She was firm now—so firm that Letty couldn’t imagine saying no. Though even if she had she wasn’t sure it would have had any effect. Lydia was already grabbing her laptop out of her bag and settling herself down on Letty’s desk chair. Feet up on the bed, fingers flying over the keys. It took her all of thirty seconds to bring up his email provider and fill in the details Letty provided.
Then it was just thirty seconds more of agonized attempts at reading her friend’s expression. Was it a yes? Was it a no? But more important: which one was the answer she wanted to hear?
It didn’t feel like either in those few moments.
It felt like she was sinking deep into a mess of her own creation.
And she was right to have that feeling, too.
“It’s his account. Password works. Plus there’s a subscription here to burger-of-the-month club and an order for a T-shirt bearing the legendONLY DICKS CALL THEM CHICK FLICKS,so I think it’s safe for us to call this one.”
“He does really love burgers. And hates people calling them chick flicks.”
“I remember when the cafeteria had those sliders. I’ve never known anyone get so excited over what is essentially just bread and meat. I think he ate twenty-seven of them. In one bite.”
“I found twelve more wrapped in a napkin in his bedside drawer.”
She meant to lighten the mood a little with that confession.
Though somehow it just had the opposite effect.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“We don’t know that for sure yet. He could have sent those pictures to other emails, too.”
“Which is also something we could easily check.”
“So let’s do it, then. Just tell me what I need to be looking at.”
“His other account is [email protected].”
“Remind me to tell you that’s cute if he turns out to be a good guy.”
“I will. Probably while crying some more and cramming comfort cheese into my mouth.”
There was a pause as Lydia typed. Fast but not too fast, like she didn’t want to seem eager.
And then she found what she was looking for, and couldn’t hide it. Her eyes darted across the screen, taking all of something in. Taking alotof something in.
Then finally, “Well. You should probably get out the good stuff. Maybe a nice brie or a block of Parmesan.”
“Is it that bad? Or that good? Or both together; I don’t know.”
