Page 11 of All the Broken Pieces: Vol. 3

I’m so angry, I don’t know where to put my hands. They go to fold over my chest and then make random swishes through the air, showing off my inner Italian. “You can’t mean that! Tim’s acted like a brother to me.”

Vi rolls her heavily made up eyes. “The dude threw himself into the friend-zone so he’d be the first to nail you when you came to. It’s not chivalry. He’s biding his time.”

“That’s not true.” I don’t tell her about the almost night, because that didn’t count for either of us.

“Oh? Then prove me wrong.” She tips her head to the side, sending her dark locks falling over her shoulder. Her hair never frizzes. Meanwhile, I look like a Troll doll.

A guttural sound of annoyance comes from my throat. “Vi, he doesn’t even like you, but he invited you to come along with us this summer on a trip. He said we’d both invite people.” I realize I never asked her to come, and never explained the plan, so I backpedal and fill her in. Vi’s jaw drops when I finish. “What?”

She taps a cherry red nail on the counter in front of me. “Reiterating. He wants you.” A crease forms in between her eyebrows. “Who else is he asking? Besides the hated BFF?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t like you. And I don’t know. He said he’d ask a few people and that I should too—the group of us should go.”

Vi shakes her head. “Nah, that sounds off. He’s taking you to a grave first. No way he’s going to bring a bunch of trashed guys island hopping, even if he’s an ass. If he’s legit, he won’t do that either. I think you should go with him by yourself.”

“What? You just said you think he’s the asshole breaking into my house.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. What’s he do again?”

“He’s the soccer coach at St. Bart’s. Teaches history. He’s not a techie nerd. He doesn’t dive. He wouldn’t have dive gear to throw through my windows.”

Frowning, Vi taps her nail on the counter, thinking. “Maybe it’s not him. Either way, you’ll find out, right? I mean, if he’s with you, you’ll be able to tell if it’s him. Grab his laptop and see if he bought some Facebook ads. That’s easy enough.”

I frown. I don’t like this plan, but I find myself nodding, saying, “I guess so.”

“You can do that before you go. If it’s him, if he’s the creep, then me and you go. Girl trip. If it’s not, consider going, just the two of you—at least to the first island for the grave shit. I can meet up with you at the next.”

“You don’t want to be there for that. It’s a downer. I get it.” I’m about to get up and open the door. The bell is going to ring. She grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“It’s not that. If you really want me there, I’m there. It’s that you need to figure out where you stand with Tim. You can’t do that if I’m there.”

“And if he’s the one screwing with me?”

A smile snakes across her face. “Then he’ll be sorry he ever met us. We’ll nail his ass to the wall before we jet off to paradise. No one messes with my friends. Got it?” There’s a ferocity in her expression, something in her eyes that says she’ll rip apart anyone who fucks with me.

The hollow place in the center of my chest warms a bit. It doesn’t feel so cold and empty. I’ve not had anyone offer to stand up for me like this since Zara.

“Thanks Vi.”