“You finished it?”
I nodded. “A while ago. I just—”
“—didn’t want to come over.” I saw her swallow and her hands made fists in the comforter on either side of her. “Jo, I—”
“Wait, okay?” I took a step into her room, still clutching my necklace. There weren’t enough deep breaths in the world for what I had to say but I took one anyway. And when it wasn’t enough I took another. I was mad at her. More than mad, I was broken by her. But standing in her room with its hand-me-down furniture and the collection of stuffed animals nearly crowding her off the bed some of that fell away, not all, but a lot.
I took a few more steps and then lowered myself to sit on the opposite corner of the bed from her so I could pluck up a flamingo—her favorite animal—that I’d given her for her last birthday. I’d sewn a soccer ball to its hand and used markers to recreate our school’s mascot on its belly. It turned out awful, and I’d wanted to chuck it but Cherry had insisted it take a place of honor on her bed.
And it was still there.
My heart ached as I looked at the flamingo, and it ached more when I glanced at Cherry.
“I know you’re not grounded anymore. You could’ve tried to talk to me.”
Her head slumped further.
“I don’t get it. I thought eventually you’d come over and we’d fight it out and be okay again. But you didn’t.” My voice broke. “And I know you don’t want me to talk about Meneik—I don’t want to talk about Meneik, but I’m going to because I don’t care if you hate me for it. I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he treats you or the way he forces you to act to keep him happy. Whether you want me in your life or not, and whether I’m mad at you or not, I care about you. I don’t want you to look back in five years and regret your life.” My heart lodged itself in my throat when I remembered Shelly telling me that she’d lost everything because of my dad. “I’ve seen that, and I don’t want that for you.”
Cherry glanced down at her knees, her shoulders hunching as though she was bracing herself. “Are you done?”
“No.” I tossed the flamingo down. “I’m not done. Cherry, I—I’ve been going through some stuff.” My throat closed off so my words came out choked. “I could’ve used a friend to tell me the truth when I was lying to myself.” I thought about all warning signs with Guy and how maybe if I’d told someone, they’d have helped me see him for what he was long before that final night in his apartment. “Because it turns out it’s a lot easier to point out somebody else’s mistakes than recognize your own.” My eyes were threatening to start swimming, so I bounced my gaze all over her room, her closet, her window, her dresser.
And I stopped.
Standing, I walked to the dresser and stared at the mirror hanging above it, the one that had been so crammed with photos, concert tickets, and notes she and Gabe always left for each other. I’d been in her room enough times to have them memorized, but even if I hadn’t, I’d have noticed the glaring gaps.
All the photos of Meneik were gone. Whenever they’d broken up before, she’d never get around to taking them down before they were on again.
I spun to face her and didn’t need to ask the question when the answer had been staring me in the face.
“Turns out I didn’t need you to see Meneik,” Cherry said, her voice less flat and more empty. “Do you know what he said when I showed up at his door?”
My stomach turned over.
“It was my fault for getting grounded, that if I really loved him, I’d have figured out a way to be with him sooner, even if that meant leaving my family. And I don’t know if it was all the time I’d spent away from him or thinking about the horrible things I’d said to you and everyone else—things he was yelling at me—” I heard her voice thicken. “But I finally realized that you were right, all of you.”
I pressed my lips together to steady them. “It’s over?”
She nodded. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It was awful and heartless.” When she lifted her head, her eyes were swimming. “And it wasn’t true.”
My chest felt too tight as I stared at her. I didn’t need an apology. I’d repeated that to myself the whole way over, but I know that part of my heart would have broken if she’d let me leave without saying those words and meaning them.
“After Meneik, I told myself I waited too long, that it was too late to say sorry and—” She broke off when she saw my necklace and then her face crumbled and we were both moving toward each other, meeting in a hug that felt like we’d never gone a single day fighting.
“Never,” I told her.
“I missed you.”
“Me, too.”
“Promise you’ll always tell me when I’m messing up?”
“If you’ll tell me.”
She nodded. “But you saw through Meneik from the start. You’d have never let some guy manipulate you like I did.” She felt me stiffen and drew back. “What?” she said, taking in the way my face had gone slack.
I sucked as much air into my lungs as I could, hoping to make the next part easier. I even tried to smile but it broke before my lips could lift.
* * *
Shelly let the two officers into Dad’s apartment and, after introducing everyone, she sat next to me on the couch and didn’t move for the next two hours while they questioned me.
If I hadn’t had my hands clenched tightly in my lap, I think she’d have tried to hold one as I relived not only the last time I was in Guy’s apartment, but every interaction we’d had since the first time we met.
To her credit, Shelly never once reacted. She didn’t gasp or sigh or so much as twitch while I spoke, my voice growing softer as the unbelievable stupidity of my actions hit me all over again.
The officers were kind, too. They never acted like they thought I was lying or embellishing. They wrote down my answers, asked questions that didn’t feel nearly as invasive as I’d been expecting, and they were straightforward with me about what was going to happen when I asked.
Guy would be interviewed next, but I already knew that his version of the events was going to contradict everything I said. And it turned out Guy was very clever. All his insistence on keeping our “friendship” secret meant there were no witnesses who’d ever seen us together. There were also no phone records, no inappropriate texts or voice mails. His kissing and groping hadn’t left physical marks on me, and I’d waited weeks before reporting him. There was nothing to prove my story over his.