his hand. “So, how’s it feel being back?” He took a long drink of his iced tea, watching me over the rim of his glass.
I lifted my shoulders. “Not sure yet. I’ve been back for all of an hour. Check back in with me tomorrow.” I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “What’s new with you, Web? Josie tied you down yet?”
Kyle had been dating Josie Robinson for the past five years. I had been surprised when I heard about them getting together and more than a little disappointed. Josie had been one of Chelsea’s minions. One of the beautiful and bitchy crew even if Josie was more palatable than Chelsea ever had been.
I suppose it made sense that Adam’s best friend ended up with his wife’s best friend. It was all rather icky and incestuous if you ask me.
Kyle scratched the scruff on his chin. “Uh, no. Josie and I broke up six months or so ago.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” I replied awkwardly.
Kyle snorted. “No, you’re not. You’re a shit liar, Galloway.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Fine. I’m not sorry. I never liked Josie. I could never understand why you were with her. You’re such a nice guy, and she’s such a…”
“Bitch?” he volunteered with a raised eyebrow.
“She was one of Chelsea’s lackeys. What else could she be?” I spat out. Even saying Chelsea’s name made me want to hit something. I had never hated someone the way I hated Chelsea Sloane—Chelsea Ducate now.
In school, she had made it her mission to make me miserable, and it drove her nuts that her attempts had mostly been unsuccessful. I hadn’t paid Chelsea, or her cronies, much mind. I had been happy with my tiny group of friends.
Sure, Chelsea spread rumors that I had a sex change operation the summer before sophomore year, and she had stolen my clothes during P.E. class during eighth grade, forcing me to borrow extra clothes from Skylar, meaning I spent the day decked out as a goth queen. She spat in my food at the cross-country pancake breakfast and whispered loudly about my flat boobs to her friends, inventing the unoriginal nickname, “Two-backed Meg.”
Sure, it hurt, but I had worked hard to develop a very thick skin, and I had never retaliated. Mostly because I didn't want to waste my energy on the likes of Chelsea Sloane, but my loathing was intense. Skylar and I had defaced her picture in every yearbook, and Adam and I made up limericks devoted to her big nose—pre-plastic surgery.
So, my feelings of complete and utter betrayal were understandable when I discovered, to my complete and abject horror, that my best friend—the object of my undying devotion—had hooked up with my nemesis behind my back. It had happened ten years ago, but that kind of betrayal was hard to forgive. Particularly given the lengths Chelsea went to in order to bully me.
Adam and Chelsea had never made sense. Yes, they were both ridiculously good looking, but that was only about appearance. Their personalities were night and day. Or at least I had thought so. But given how quickly Adam threw me aside for a long pair of legs and glossy hair, maybe they were more alike than I had ever thought.
Kyle picked up another snickerdoodle, crumbling it onto his plate. “Josie and I may not have worked out, but she’s nothing like Chelsea.”
It was my turn to snort. “Yeah, sure. Tell me something I can actually believe, Webber.”
Kyle frowned. “Chelsea’s a bitch, we all know that, but don’t tar Josie with the same brush. She was as much a victim of Chelsea’s bullshit as anyone else.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll admit I never knew Josie that well, but you can’t blame me for judging her based on the company she kept.”
Kyle finished his iced tea and got up to put the glass in the dishwasher. “She and Chelsea haven’t been friends for a while. She stopped talking to her after she found out what she did to Adam—” He cut off quickly and made himself busy cleaning up after himself, throwing away his napkin and rinsing off his plate.
I didn’t want to ask. I shouldn’t care.
But of course, I had to know.
“What’d she do to Adam?” I asked, my voice deceptively blasé.
Kyle’s expression was decidedly bland. “I’m not in the habit of gossiping about my best friend behind his back.”
I covered the snickerdoodles with Saranwrap, making a point