“When were you going to tell me you and Trinity were more than just hanging out?”
She looks taken aback by my sharp accusation. “It’s just sex,” she finally says.
Her answer isn’t surprising, but hearing her say it makes the whole situation so much worse. If it was “just sex,” why the hell would she lie about it?
Then I have another thought. While I was in agony over Alex pulling away and hoping she may be thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about her, she wasn’t thinking about me at all. Instead, she was fucking someone else and planning a move to the other side of the Atlantic.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I rush to the curb and bend over, putting my hands on my knees and willing the contents of my stomach to stay there.
Alex is there instantly, rubbing my back like I’m not dangerously close to spewing all over her Chuck Taylors. But I don’t want her close. I don’t want her touching me. I flinch and step away.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her? About the two of you?”
“I didn’t…” She starts, then trails off, looking anywhere but at me. A telltale sign that she’s either about to deflect or lie. Probably both. “I didn’t want you judging me.”
Her words are like a surprise slap across my cheek. “Judge you? When have Ieverjudged you?”
Her shoulders drop. “I don’t know, Jules.”
Typical Alex, her nonresponse is just another way of running away. And I’m getting tired of it. “You know I was so excited to come here. To spend time with you. Because we never seem to get to do that anymore. But even when you’re here, you’re not reallyhere, are you?”
“What are you talking about? I’m standing right in front of you.”
“Ever since you got home from Europe, everything is such a mystery. I have to pry things out of you because you never talk to me.”
“We talk all the time.” She looks genuinely confused, and it just makes me more frustrated that she just doesn’tget it.
“But you never actually tell me things. You barely talk about yourfriends from France. You didn’t tell me anything about Greece until I begged. And Simone? Didn’t tell me about her, either.”
“I didn’t have to. You walked in on us, remember?”
“Then,” I continue, ignoring her jab, “I found out about you and Trinity. Tonight. Fromher. Do you know how embarrassing it is? To hear about what’s going on in your life from a total stranger and not you?” Finally, it seems to get through because she goes from defensive to chastised in the span of a second. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in a relationship?”
“Because I’m not sure what it is with Trinity, and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”
Okay, ouch. Seems she’s full of jabs tonight. But also, what the fuck? I’m the one she comes to when she’s hurting. I’m the one she came out to before anyone else. I’m the one she confides in when she’s worried about Mason. I’m the one she tells her secrets to.
Me, me,me.
At least, she used to.
“What do you mean you didn’t know how to talk to me about it?”
Her frustration grows. “I don’t even know what she and I are. I just know I like her, and we’re having fun.”
“Doessheknow that?” I snap. “Because it’s pretty clear to me that she thinks you two are pretty fucking serious.”
She takes a step toward me, her eyes flashing something dangerous, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “You know, you’re no saint, either. How long did it take you to tell me about Emily?”
“You pulled away,” I say, not wanting to talk about Emily. This has nothing to do with her. I want to talk about me and her and the new sex-shaped wedge nestled within our friendship. “You swore nothing would come between us, and you pulled away.”
“Me?You thinkI’mthe one who pulled away?” Her laugh holds no humor.
“You’re going to London, Alex! Yeah, Trinity told me about that, too.”
She throws up her hands like this is the most exasperating conversation she’s ever had. Not that I disagree. “You knew I was going to London. We had a whole conversation about it.”
“You said you’d been looking at schools. Not that you had alreadyapplied. You let me believe you were going for grad school.” Alex sighs like this was common fucking knowledge. “When were you going to tell me you meant this year?”
