A Night Full of Secrets
Maisie
On the other side of the couch, Tessa looked ready to strangle someone. "He said what?"
It almost hurt to repeat it. "He said that if I wanted an apology, I'd be waiting a while."
The room was warm, but she literally shivered. "Man, that's cold."
I couldn't even pretend to smile. "I know, right?"
"So he admitted it? That he got with Sierra?"
It was Wednesday night, and this was the first time Tessa was hearing any of this. On the night in question – when I'd been sleeping alone and Griff had been sleeping wherever – Tessa had been oddly scarce.
In fact, she'd been scarce for two whole days – and yeah, both of those nights, too.
For me personally, the timing hadn't been terrific. The house had felt too big, too empty, and too cold in spite of warmer weather.
So far, today had been the worst. With the shop closed for the day, I'd spent far too many hours on my own.
No Griff.
No Tessa.
Just me.
As far as Tessa, I had no idea where she'd been. Other than a vague text saying she'd be away for a couple of nights, she'd offered no explanation.
I had asked – not in person, but by text.
Her reply had been typical Tessa. It's not important. I just didn't want you to worry. She'd sealed it with a smiley face, which perversely, had only made it worse.
But now, she was back, making me realize how much I'd missed her – and how important she'd become.
There was only one downside. Now that we were finally talking, I was in serious danger of crying my heart out. But I didn't. Instead, I swallowed hard and said, "He didn't admit anything. He started talking about security systems, for God's sake."
She bit her lip. "Well…that's good at least."
"How so?"
"It shows he cares." She gave me a tentative smile. "Right?"
"Oh, please," I scoffed. "Wanna know what I think?"
"What?"
"He feels guilty."
Her smile faded. "So…you think because he's trying to help, it means he slept with another girl?"
"No," I bristled. "I just think it's really weird that on the same day Sierra invited him over, he never came home. And he made his friend lie about it."
She cocked her head. "Which friend?"
As if she couldn't guess. "Ryder."
She hesitated a tad too long before asking, "But how would he know that Griff never came home?"
"Oh, you're gonna love this. Apparently, Ryder was crashing there for the night."
She frowned. "You don't mean in that dumpy apartment?"
Already, I'd described the place in great, grubby detail, and Tessa had looked nearly as disturbed as I'd felt. I nodded. "That's exactly where I mean."
"But why would he do that?"
"You mean Ryder? Heck if I know." I shrugged. "But he said something about whiskey, which I guess makes sense."
"What do you mean?"
I made a face. "You'd need to be drunk to stay there." When she said nothing, I kept going. "And seriously, why would Griff be living there at all?"
She gave a weak laugh. "Probably because of the bet."
Wait, what? On the sofa, I grew very still. Back in the beginning, Griff had made me promise not to tell anyone about that stupid bet, including Tessa. And even though Griff and I were on the outs, I had kept that promise, even tonight, when I'd been pouring my heart out.
So, how did Tessa know?
At something in my expression, she asked, "What's wrong?"
I was still trying to make sense of it. "I'm just wondering how you know about it – the bet, I mean."
Suddenly, she went motionless, too. "Didn't you just mention it?"
Nice try. I studied her face. "No. I didn't."
She glanced away. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Oh. Well…" She gave a shrug that was way too casual. "I'm thinking…Ryder might've mentioned it?"
She was acting way too shifty, and I had no idea why. "So you talked to Ryder? When? And where?"
"I dunno…maybe at the coffee shop? Whenever?"
It was vintage Tessa – casually evasive. And just like that, I was beyond sick of it. Even though she and I had gotten surprisingly close, she still had way too many mysteries, which she refused to unpack.
But this latest mystery – it was hitting too close to home.
It wasn't lost on me that on the night in question, nobody had been where they were supposed to be. Griff had been MIA. I'd been alone in my bed. Ryder had been at Griff's. And Tessa had been…where exactly?
I opened my mouth, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. "And where were you that night?"
She sat back, like I'd just slapped her. "What are you implying? That I was the one with Griff?"
"What? No. I never said that."
Her gaze hardened. "But you were thinking it."
Was I? I didn't think so. But maybe I was being na?ve. I'd been accused of that before, especially by Delaney, who always said I was far too trusting.
Was Delaney right?
She'd been right about Devon, that's for sure.
Into my silence, Tessa said, "So that's what you think? That he was with me?"
"No. Of course not." But then, rattled by her reaction, I mumbled, "Not really."
"Not really?" She looked beyond insulted. "What does that mean?"
"I dunno…" My chin lifted. "Maybe I'm sick of the secrets."
"Whose? Mine?"
For some reason, it was the final straw. I threw up my hands. "Everyone's. And yeah, including yours."
She was glaring daggers now. "Alright. You wanna hear a secret?"
Judging from her face, I wasn't so sure. Still, I made myself nod and braced for bad news.
"Okay, here's a big one." Her voice rose. "I don't want to sleep with your boyfriend."
Boyfriend? The word hit hard. The only time he'd used that word was when we were faking it. And after? Well, things were kind of vague. "But we never – "
"I don't care if it was official or not. He was your guy, not mine. And I would never do that."
"I never said – "
She cut me off. "And you wanna know why?"
I gave a hard swallow. "Why?"
"Two reasons." She held up a finger. "Reason number one. That isn't me. It never has been." She held up a second finger. "Reason number two. Even if I were that type of person, which I'm definitely not, I thought you and I were friends." And with that, she abruptly stood.
And now, I felt like the worst person in the world. "Tessa – "
"Just stop it," she said. "And as far as Griff, the guy's crazy about you. That's beyond obvious. So, maybe instead of asking me where I was, you should ask him."
With a huff, she turned and stormed away. A moment later, I heard her stomping up the stairs toward her bedroom. She didn't quite slam her bedroom door, but the sound of it shutting managed to echo throughout the whole house.
As for myself, I stayed on the couch to cry. I wasn't loud. I wasn't dramatic. But I was oblivious to everything except my own heartbreak – because the way it looked, I'd just lost the two people who'd come to matter most.
Worst of all? In both cases, it might be my own fault.
Or – and here was the real kicker – maybe I was totally innocent, which made both of them what, exactly?
Guilty?
But of what? And with who?