“People being stupid is my specialty,” I say with a wide grin. I tug on Samantha’s arm to pull her closer to me. “Tell your besties all about it, and we can soothe the hurt and-or help you get back at them.”
Carly immediately shakes her head. “We aren’t getting back at anyone, Pandora.”
“No, we are not,” Samantha says. “It wasn’t anything worth talking about.” She wants to tell me, though. I can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to tellsomeone.
Maybe she really isn’t doing okay.
“Okay. Carly and I were on our way to the coffee shop. Let’s get coffee and you can tell your bitch bestie and your nice bestie all your woes.” I start dragging Samantha down the tunnels toward the coffee shop.
“You aren’t the…” Carly says, hurrying to keep up with us. “Seriously, Pandora, don’t talk about yourself like that.”
I laugh, even as warmth spreads in my chest. “I meant I was the nice one, Carly.”
Samantha lets me pull her along, even though she’s obviously unhappy about it.
Too bad. She needs to talk about these things.
Samantha is quiet as we walk, but another glance at her face shows that her eyes are still red. Something made her cry.
Someonemade her cry.
It’s thankfully the right time of day for there to be free tables at the coffee shop, and I practically shove Samantha into a seat in the back corner.
“Grab coffees for all of us, please,” I ask Carly.
She sighs, but she obediently goes to the screens to put in our order.
Once she’s gone, I sit down next to Samantha and crowd her. “Okay, spill. What happened?” I ask in a low voice.
She shakes her head, but she must realize that I’m not going to let it go until she tells me. “People are just saying things,” she mumbles. “People I thought were friends.”
Don’t I knowthatfeeling.
Anger is heating up my blood. It’s a nice sensation, honestly. I need to be angry more.
Especially on other people’s behalf. It’s better than being angry for myself.
“Which people?” I ask. “What did they say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. She’s trying to evade my questions,but I’m far more stubborn than she is. I watch her, and she finally sighs and says, “Just someone from church.”
“I see, I see.” I rest my chin on my hand to observe her. She did end up going to the church near the townhouse, the one that claimed to be inclusive and welcoming, over the holiday. When she’d returned, she’d seemed to feel better.
I don’t think the church group here at Dyschord is anything like that one.
“Is it the same assholes who were calling you a slut for… all the things?” I still remember the derision they’d shown when I’d tried to figure out where Samantha was.
Didn’t she run off with Zayden? Spreading her legs for him like a common?—
Of course, they hadn’t had nice things to say about me either. Somehow, even they had seen the videos being passed around.
I should have stabbed them andreallygiven them a reason to hate me.
Samantha fiddles with the cross necklace she always wears, smoothing her fingers over the metal. “If I answer that, you’re going to try to insist on getting back at them for it,” she tells me. “And I don’t want that, Pandora. I just want to be left alone.”
Carly comes back then with the tray of drinks.
“Don’t do anything excessive, Pandora,” Carly warns, even though she wasn’t here for most of the conversation.
