I eyed her. “Since when do you and Ren talk when I’m not around?”
She shrugged. “He annoyed me at first, but he’s grown on me like a fungus. Even though he called me a bitch.”
Cringing, I shot her an apologetic look. He did call her that when they first met. And what did she do? Shrugged, said she’d been called worse, pulled out an apple from her backpack, and hung out with us at the Hut while we had coffee between classes.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
Tiffany snorted. “He’s honest. Not a lot of guys are. Anyway, it isn’t like we paint each other’s nails and trade secrets about you. We just happened to exchange numbers and he told me that we were going out because you needed it.”
That was a classy way of saying Ren needed to get out and find a new toy to play with, but I didn’t tell Tiffany that. If they were friends now, she’d learn it soon enough. Unless… “Are you into Lawrence?”
She stopped walking, giving me a twisted face, but the apples of her cheeks were red. “No! I told you we’re friends. Just friends.”
I studied her for a moment before finally nodding. What else could I do? It wasn’t really my business, even if they were both my friends. Whatever they chose to do was on them. “I was curious. I get it, trust me.”
“What does that mean?”
Licking my bottom lip, I shot her a timid look with my own face flushed. “Ren and I…”
Her eyes widened. “What?” It came almost like a shriek that had me blushing harder in return.
Swiping a hand through my hair, I nodded and looked around us as we walked back to my building. “Yeah. We were teenagers. Experimenting, you know? He was my first.”
“Were you his?”
“He says I was, but I have my doubts.” It wasn’t something I dwelled on anymore, but at the time I was a little hurt by it. Ren told me he wanted to share our firsts together for a long time, which made me think he’d been serious. But I saw how he acted around other girls at school, heard the talk and gossip from them. After we had sex, it felt like I was just another notch on his bedpost. I told myself it wasn’t true. But now?
“You okay?” Tiffany’s voice was quiet, considerate of my once scorned teenage feelings.
I gave her my best smile. “Yeah. It was a long time ago. I don’t regret what happened between us. We’re obviously still close and I trust him to be a great friend. Anything else? No. No offense to him, but he’s…Ren.”
We both laughed at that. Even though the three of us hadn’t hung out for long, it didn’t take much to get to know Ren and his ways. Did that make me love him any less? No. Like Tiffany, Ren was unapologetically himself. That was probably why they got along so well.
“When am I being forced to socialize?” I asked, holding the door open for her.
“He said he’d group text us.”
Ren’s group texts were over the top because he knew it annoyed me. He’d blow up everyone’s phones if we weren’t quick enough or because he was bored. Making a face, I headed toward the stairwell off to the side. Tiffany stopped me. “Can’t we take the elevator for once? I’m lazy.”
“You’re the thesaurus’s antonym of lazy. Come on. If I’m being forced out, then you have to suck it up and walk five flights with me as punishment.”
The noise she made had me grinning as she followed behind me. “I don’t understand why you’re so terrified of elevators. Do you know the statistics of people actually getting trapped or dying in them?”
I paused. “No. Do you?”
“No, who do you think I am? Hermione? I figured your ridiculous fear would make you able to spit out some random fact about it.”
I speared her with a look before admitting, “My mom was afraid of them too. I think it’s drilled in my head by default.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
Shrugging, I ran my hand on the stairwell railing and let the silence fill the air as we made our way up to my floor. When I unlocked the door to my apartment, Tiffany followed me in quietly and turned as soon as the lock clicked back into place.
“What was it like?” she asked, making my brows draw up.
“What was what like?”
She hopped onto the counter, her legs dangling next to where my purse and keys rested beside her. “Your life after your mother passed. It had to be hard, but it seems like you grew up okay. Until…well, you know.”
“My father got arrested?”
The sympathy on her face made me embarrassed. “You mentioned that your family was always close, so I can’t imagine what it was like. I always took what the media said for its word, which was stupid. Everybody knows the media purposefully bends the real story.”
“Why do you want to know?” I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for each of us. Passing one to her, I waited for an answer.
“You don’t talk about it.”
“I do.” Not to you. I didn’t see Ripley as much for therapy sessions, but at least once or twice a month I would make appointments and go talk to her. Sometimes she would call to check in, but I didn’t always answer. I was doing well. Or, well enough. She knew it, and she knew if I really needed to, I’d call her in case of emergency. In case I… My hand went to my stomach, knowing the scar was still there on my skin.
Tiffany watched me with pinched brows until I caved. “It was hard. My mother meant the world to me, and as far as I know, she didn’t know what my father did. The evidence showed he’d been involved with the state scandal for a long time and impacted a lot of people. I mean, how could my mom not know? She was a smart woman, Tiff.”
“But you don’t know that for sure.”
“True, but I think about it all the time.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” she reasoned. “I know you love your mom, so what good would it do to think she was involved in it if it changes how you feel? You can’t change what happened.”
She had a point. Ripley told me the same thing once upon a time, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about it.
“I know.”
“Your mother was a sweet person.”
“I know, Tiffany.”
“So…?”
Sitting on the stool beside her, I uncapped my water and took a sip. “I can’t just say I’m not going to not think about it. That only makes me want to know the truth more.”
“But you won’t.”
“I know.”
She eyed me. “This is exactly why we need alcohol. You won’t think about it when you’re filled with tequila.”
My stomach churned. “No tequila.”
“Boring.”
“You’re bor—” My phone rang, making me glance down at the screen to see Sophie’s name on the screen.
“Oh.” Tiffany jumped down. “I’m going to wash up and change if that’s cool with you. Good luck with that.” She knew I wasn’t that close with my aunt, so she walked away to give me privacy.
“Hi, Sophie.”
“Adele,” she greeted. “I was reaching out about tomorrow. Lydia said she was going to be in town and wanted to join us for our brunch.”