“Listen, I am so sorry to drop this bombshell on you, but I literally just put the pieces together. Kenneth is cheating on you.”
I expected anger, and her heart breaking, but instead she stared at me for a long second and the first emotion that raced through her was the dark teal of sad acknowledgement. A confirmation of a suspicion. Then the tears welled in her eyes and I could see the hurt, the betrayal, anchor near her heart chakra.
Skylar reached out, taking her hand, and sympathy laced her voice as she spoke. “You knew.”
“I suspected,” Becca whispered. “He was supposed to pick me up Friday for a date but cancelled last second. And he’s been weird since, not responding to texts, telling me I was overreacting.”
Classic gaslighting, in other words. Wow.
“Abby, I almost asked you to confirm it for me but felt like I shouldn’t.”
“No, please ask.” I felt bad for her all over again. “I’m happy to confirm that shit, I hate cheaters. I’m so, so sorry, Becca. You absolutely do not deserve this. Please break up with him.”
“I am. Thank you for telling me.” She sniffled, using the heel of her hand to wipe away tears.
Mr. Hendrix kept two tissue boxes in the classroom, along the back windowsill. Skylar popped up to grab tissues from the nearby box. Becca took them with thanks, blowing her nose, but then she just looked lost.
I chose to share the rest. She needed some righteous anger. “Becca, it gets worse. He was fucking Emily, and she’s now pregnant. It was more than over the weekend, too, as Emily’s a good month along.”
There it was, watermelon red indignation, hot red anger rising like a volcano preparing to blow. “He did what?!”
“Yeah. I avoid Emily as much as possible, so I didn’t see it before today.” I felt bad, like I should have been paying attention. To safeguard a friend, if nothing else. “But she’s at least four weeks along, maybe five. Kenneth is absolutely the father, there’s no question there.”
She stared at the table for a long second, processing, and I could see her lines go haywire. Grief mixing with betrayal, anger slamming into regret, tears transforming into rage.
Uh oh. She was about to blow.
“That fucking bastard,” Becca breathed. She shot out of her chair, racing out the door.
Where was she going…? Wait, she wasn’t going to confront him right now, was she?
Skylar watched her go too and then jumped up, realization dawning over her face. “Wait, isn’t Kenneth in the class next door to us this period?”
“Is he?”
Either way, I didn’t think it a good idea to leave Becca alone to deal with them. I hustled after Becca, could hear Skylar on my heels, and the second I breached the hallway, I realized my girlfriend was right—Kenneth apparently had a class near us this period. He had one foot through the door of a classroom, but had half-turned to look at Becca.
Becca stood with hands in fists at her side, vibrating with the need to punch him, and she screamed, “You fucking cheater! We’re done!”
“Oooh, bitch,” Skylar murmured.
Everyone in the hallway abruptly stopped as well. Humans as a whole adored drama, and live action in-person drama? Chef’s kiss. That was the feeling running rampant through all of them.
Kenneth’s first reaction was a very classicoh shit she knows, but on the outside, he was trying to play it cool. He looked annoyed, even though there was a nervous tic near his eye he couldn’t quite lock down. “Becca, stop being such a drama queen—”
“She’s four weeks pregnant, by the way,” Becca snapped at him. “So you better get ready to pay child support, dumbass.”
Oh, that got him. Go Becca! Look at her, charging in, taking no prisoners. I seriously had to become better friends with her, she truly kicks ass.
I decided she needed backup and joined her. “Don’t try to lie, Kenneth. You can’t lie to me, I can See it all.”
Now he was nervous. Like, the last slice of pizza at a weed convention kind of nervous.
Jon’s told me often that for some reason, when a person got cornered, their first instinct was to lie, bluff, try to make the other person out to be the unreliable narrator. It had never made sense to me why, but Jon was once again proven correct as Kenneth opened his fat, lying mouth.
“No one actually believes you’re a psychic! You can’t see shit, stop pretending—”
I just arched a brow and stared him down. “Emily.”
