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As he grew closer, I could see he looked just as bad as I did but for very different reasons. His usually styled hair was a mess, and his face was pale. “You told the police that I was with Debbie before she . . . before she died.”
Blinking several times, I leaned back and tried to sort out my thoughts enough to hold a conversation I so didn’t want to have. “I told them about the pink scarf and—”
“I wasn’t there. She broke up with me as I’m sure you know and were fucking thrilled about.” He bent at the waist, getting right up in my face. So close that I could see the fine lines around the corners of his eyes. “And you told them that I hit her. You know that’s not true.”
Disbelief rocketed through me. Shit on a bull, I knew that was true!
“So if you know what’s good for you,” he said, “keep your fucking mouth shut.”
Twenty-five
What a dick!” Calla clutched a carton of ice cream we’d found in the fridge. “Fuck guys. Seriously. Fuck them and not in a good way.”
My eyes were blurry and puffy as I watched her pace. There was a lot about Jase that Calla didn’t know and I wouldn’t tell her out of respect for his privacy. As much as he hurt me, I wasn’t about to announce to the world that he had a son and was most likely still very much in love with the mother of his child.
Because wasn’t that what this was really about? He hadn’t been ready for something serious, and I knew so very little about this girl, where she lived, if she was in some way still in the picture, or how long the two had been split. Knowing that his heart quite likely belonged to someone else made me feel all the more foolish. The first time he’d refused to talk about her should’ve been warning enough, and yet, I ignored it.
“Yeah, fuck ’em,” I whispered.
She stopped in front of me, holding out the ice cream. “More?”
I shook my head, clutching the pillow to my too full stomach.
Sighing, she plopped down next to me. “I’m so sorry, Teresa. This is the last thing you need right now—your knee, Debbie, and crazy-pants Erik.”
“I guess it could be worse,” I murmured, thinking about how I was never going to be able to sleep in that bed again. I knew it would still carry his scent and I couldn’t bear that. Run out of my dorm and my bed, I was about to become close friends with this couch.
Calla gave me a quizzical look. “I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten a shit sandwich this last week or so.”
That much was true, but Debbie still had it worse than me. At least I was alive. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my aching brow. “I don’t think I’m ever going to have sex again.”
“Join the club.” She sighed heavily. “I’ve sworn off guys.”
I peeked at her. “Completely?”
She nodded. “Yep. Life’s easier that way.”
“Do you like girls?”
“I wish.” She laughed. “I just think sex makes things complicated and messy. I mean, yeah, I talk about how hot guys are and make a ton of sexual innuendoes to the point someone probably thinks something’s wrong with me, but I’ve never had sex.”
“What?” I said in a disbelieving voice. “You’re a virgin?”
She laughed again. “Is it really that shocking? I can’t be the only twenty-one-year-old who hasn’t had sex.”
“You’re not,” I said immediately.
Straightening, she switched the carton of ice cream to her other hand. “And look at me, Teresa. I don’t look like you or Avery. I’m not thin, and I sort of look like the Joker.” She gestured at her scarred face.
My mouth dropped open. “First off, you’re not fat.”
She arched a brow.
I rolled my eyes. “And you do not look like the Joker, you dumbass. You’re really pretty.” And that part was true. Scar or not, Calla was really pretty. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Shrugging, she stood. “Enough about me and my lack of sex and whatnot; is what you told me all that Erik said to you?”
The change of subject threw me for a loop. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
