true bestie.”
Her face broke into a grin that was halfway between ecstatic and smug. “Are you finally admitting that we’re besties?”
My thoughts shifted to Tobias, but only for a second. He was in Kansas, and I was here. Surely, he wouldn’t begrudge me a girlfriend to take his place.
“Well, you did hand over your blueberry muffin. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.”
“I knew it was only a matter of time before you converted.”
“Converted? What is this, the Church of Petra?”
She laughed. “More like the Church of Staying Young and Beautiful Forever. I’d happily worship at that altar every freaking day.”
“You’re nuts.”
Petra proved her newly minted role of bestie by distracting me with tales of her antics from high school for the rest of our break. The girl was my opposite in almost every way. While I’d done my best to remain antisocial, she’d been the life of the party. She’d been all about embracing her youth and freedom before she was even old enough to beg for independence.
But we were alike too. Though she’d yet to reveal much of her past to me, I sensed pain beneath her layers of pluck and exuberance that reminded me of my own heartache.
Also, neither of us cared about popularity. She hadn’t shown up at all of those parties to be seen. She’d done it to have fun and be free.
And that was why we worked as friends. Whether Petra would ever admit it or not, there wasn’t a shallow bone in her body. Whatever altar she was worshipping at, it wasn’t about physical beauty. There was something else behind her need to savor her youth. Hopefully, someday she’d tell me.
Maybe around the time I finally admitted everything about my past. We weren’t there yet, but I’d told her about Tristin, which was a big step for me.
As we were heading toward the door, a familiar, breathy voice caught my notice. Not because I knew her—well, I knew of her—but because of who she was talking about.
Tristin.
“Can you believe he would consider even showing his face on campus again after drugging that girl? I don’t care what the dean’s office says. There’s no way he’s innocent. His daddy must have cut a huge check to the university...again.”
I stopped in my tracks and clenched my fists around the straps of my backpack. Nothing good had ever come from eavesdropping. But the breathy-voiced, gossiping girl who sat behind me in Western Civ was clearly showing off for her audience. She wanted to be heard, and maybe it was time she paid the consequence.
Spinning on my heel, I stalked up to her table, where five other Harbor U students were gathered with the spiteful blonde. The girl’s eyes widened when she saw me, but she smartly kept her mouth shut.
I towered over her and spoke, keeping my voice low and even. “You know, the first time I heard you gossiping about Tristin, I let it go.” Technically not true, since I’d made a few snide comments. But close enough. “This time, not so much.”
She swallowed hard. “Oh? What are you going to do? Lace my coffee with GHB?”
“No.” I smiled sweetly, hoping it looked as creepy as it felt. “I’m going to see that your privileges for The Grind are taken away.”
I didn’t know if Mac, my boss, would even go for it. But I knew the threat of it alone would hurt. This girl came to the coffee shop every single day after class, just like Petra and I did. If I managed to get her banned, I had no doubt she’d still gossip elsewhere. But at least she wouldn’t be able to do so in my haven.
Her pretty face turned an unsightly shade of red. “You can’t do that.”
“No?” I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
Chapter Four
Thea
My anger with the breathy-voiced girl stayed with me, morphing into anger at Tristin and then myself. For defending him and so much more.
Because, at the end of the day, I had no one but myself to blame for the melancholy following me around like Eeyore’s storm cloud. Tristin had acted like an asshole, but that was nothing new. Asshole had been his default personality setting since the moment we reconnected almost a month ago. Just because we’d shared moments of camaraderie in that month didn’t mean I could expect him to change.
I’d made assumptions about him...about us. And I’d had no right to. He’d never claimed to be someone who wouldn’t continue pushing me away.
So, yeah.