Chapter Ten #2
But “Fine” was what came out of her mouth, because she certainly wasn’t going to share any of that with Elena.
Daphne closed her eyes, remembering the text she’d sent Elena last week. That must be why she was calling. To explain. To apologize. To say anything about April. Literally anything.
“Where are you?” Elena asked. “Still in Boston?”
“No, I’m…I’m in a town called Clover Lake for the summer.”
Elena was silent on the other end for a beat. “I see.”
Daphne wanted to ask if she knew it—because of course Elena knew it. She wanted to scream at her. Wanted to ask why, wanted to demand they stop with these pleasantries and just talk, but Daphne couldn’t get any of that to come out of her mouth either.
“Why are you calling me?” she finally asked.
“Why did you answer?” Elena said back.
Classic Elena.
And classic Daphne to have no rebuttal.
“I was worried about you,” Elena said when Daphne said nothing. “I care about you, Daph.”
Daphne shook her head, even though Elena couldn’t see her, more a way to dislodge Elena’s words than anything else, try to keep them from soaking into her bones.
Like you cared about April?
There it was—right there on the tip of her tongue. The question. But she couldn’t say it. It was clear she couldn’t say anything about anything when it came to Elena Watson. The years they spent together, all of Daphne’s firsts with Elena, had her in a chokehold, freezing up every emotion.
And she hated herself for it.
But she couldn’t seem to get out from under it.
“I’ve got to go,” she said.
“Daphne, wait, I—”
But Daphne ended the call, tapping the red button so hard, she nearly sprained her finger. She was breathing hard, her eyes immediately filling with tears. She stared at her phone for a good thirty seconds.
“As far as vehement hang-ups go, I’d give that one an eight out of ten.”
Daphne startled at the voice to her left, dropping her phone in the process. It clattered loudly onto the hardwood floor.
Sasha bent down to pick it up, flipping it around in her hand and inspecting the screen before offering it back to Daphne.
“No harm done,” she said. She was dressed in black jeans and a plain white tee, her platinum hair tall and swoopy.
“Thanks,” Daphne said, tucking her phone into her pocket.
“So,” Sasha said, making a clicking sound with her tongue.
Daphne could only laugh. It wasn’t necessarily a pleasant sound, but it was better than breaking down into tears. Maybe she was growing, but the small feeling in the center of her chest indicated otherwise.
“So,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“That sounded intense.”
“You have no idea,” Daphne said, letting her head thunk against the wall and closing her eyes.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Sasha asked. She leaned against the wall as well, one ankle crossed over the other.
And god, Daphne actually did. Of course, she’d told Vivian all about the breakup when it had happened, and April clearly knew, but there was no one Daphne could really talk to about April herself.
The confusing, mysterious, bruise-like conundrum who was April Evans.
So she slid down the wall until she was sitting, then crossed her legs. Sasha sat too, resting her forearms on her knees.
“Remember my ex who cheated on someone with me?” Daphne said.
Sasha lifted a single devastating brow. “I do.”
“That someone was April.” Daphne went on to explain the particulars of the last week and a half, including Nicola Reece and how Daphne and April were pretty much competing against each other for the chance of a lifetime.
Sasha steepled her fingers. “Wait. So April is…”
“Yeah.”
“And Elena was—”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And you never knew she was—”
“Nope.”
“And now the Devon,” Sasha said.
“I could not make this stuff up,” Daphne said.
“Fucking hell,” Sasha said, sending a hand through her hair. “I mean, fuck.”
Daphne laughed—a true laugh this time. It felt good to have someone completely unrelated to the mess that was her life verify that it was, indeed, a mess.
“What’s with all the fucks?”
Both Sasha and Daphne swung their heads toward the new voice—April Evans herself walking down the hall. Sasha got to her feet.
“Okay, that’s it,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“What’s it?” April asked. “Am I in trouble?”
“More like in desperate need of some fun,” Sasha said as Daphne stood as well. “I mean, look at you two. The hair is hot, Daphne, but seriously?”
“You think my hair is hot?” Daphne asked, fingers playing with the ends.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Tonight. Dance studio.”
“Are we learning the foxtrot?” April asked.
“We’re going to a party,” Sasha said. “Some of the dance instructors are throwing it, and they know how to have a good time.”
Daphne’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, really? That sounds perfect. I’ve never been to a party before.”
Both Sasha and April gave her a look.
“Never?” April asked.
“Well, not one that didn’t involve a cocktail dress and tiny hors d’oeuvres and violin music. But I guess, if you go way back, I went to a lot of VBS parties.”
“VBS?” Sasha asked.
“Vacation Bible School,” Daphne said. “We’d make paper doll Bible characters and drink a lot of Hawaiian Punch.”
Sasha and April blinked at her.
“This is more dire than I thought,” Sasha said, turning to April. “And you? What was your biggest party ever?”
April narrowed her eyes. “This is Daphne’s wild adventure, not mine.”
“Yeah, but you need something,” Sasha said, flicking her gaze up and down April’s form. “Not sure what it is yet, but Jesus.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” April asked.
Sasha just flailed her arms between April and Daphne. “Need I say more?”
April lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Fuck my life.”
“Exactly,” Sasha said, clapping her hands together. “Now meet me in the dance studio at nine o’clock tonight or I will hunt you down.”
And with that, she strode off in her white sneakers, hands in her pockets and whistling some tuneless song.
“She knows, doesn’t she?” April asked when Sasha was out of sight.
Daphne winced. “She sort of caught me right after—”
She cut herself off, closing her eyes and inhaling through her nose as she looked down at the floor. Somehow, she didn’t want to admit that she’d answered Elena’s call.
Couldn’t.
Not to April Evans.
She sighed before glancing back at April. “I’m sorry. I’m pathetic.”
April frowned, but her eyes were gentle. “You’re not pathetic.”
Softly.
Almost sweetly.
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Daphne felt her heartbeat everywhere as April’s dark eyes searched her own.
“Ready for class?” Daphne finally asked, even though she still couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“Yeah,” April said, her voice nearly a whisper.
For a second, neither of them moved. And when April eventually looked away, hitching her bag higher onto her shoulder and heading into the studio, Daphne felt dizzy and breathless. She wasn’t sure if it was because of talking to Elena or the party or something else altogether.
Or maybe, it was because of someone else altogether.