Page 68 of Revenge Cake

“You knew it wouldn’t make you feel better. It was about justice.”

I snort, shaking my head with a humorless smile. “Justice. I was such a child. He licked cake off of my vagina, Brenna. That was my justice.”

“It’s incredible!” Brenna grins. “Lani, you made him lick his own Closure Cake off of your vagina. Can you think of anything more feminist? You’re a gangster. Just imagine what we would have thought when we were fifteen and made our first cake for Dylan Edwards. We would have bowed to future Lani.”

I wish I could find it comforting, but nothing seems to ease this ache at the pit of my chest. “I miss Ativan,” I whisper.

Brenna takes my hand in hers. We drift into silence again, her presence soothing me into self-reflection. There’s no denying my true intentions any longer. That revenge list was just an elaborate attempt to shield my guarded heart from hurt. Just like I always have.

I’m a coward.

Brenna interrupts the silence. “Lauren is coming into town. For Logan’s sake. Because he’s so wrecked over you.”

I frown at her, wondering how she found out. As if reading my mind, she says, “I know because Armaan has been giddy since this morning. He’s so excited about seeing her, he can’t even hide it from me.”

I squeeze her hand.

“Why am I hanging on to him?” she says, almost to herself. “He’s been checked out for months.”

I look at her pointedly, silently probing her to actually answer her rhetorical question.

She throws her hands in the air. “I like being around him! It’s as simple as that. He makes me feel calm, with his deadbeat stoner ways. I’m attracted to losers.”

I only smile sadly at her. I won’t scold her for calling him a loser, because I know this is her way. She’s deeply hurt by his indifference, and she reacts by lashing out. I’d be a hypocrite to judge her for it. Let she who did not make her boyfriend lick cake from her vagina cast the first stone.

Both of our heads turn at a light tap on my bedroom door. Mia walks in, her face wary. “Logan is on the front porch. He says he’s not leaving until you come out.”

My mouth drops open. When I look at Brenna, she doesn’t look at all surprised.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! I just texted him five minutes ago.”

Mia only looks at me, and I can’t blame her for not wanting to be in the middle of this shitshow.

I groan as I get up from the bed.

“Don’t let him get away with it,” Brenna says as I walk out of my room.

“Oh, I won’t.”

When I open the front door, he’s standing near the edge of the porch with his back to me, his hands in the pockets of his hoody. “I told you I would FaceTime you at seven.”

“Yeah, I can read.” His voice is soft.

“You just don’t care about my wishes.”

“Not any more than you care about mine.”

He turns around, and the sight makes my guarded heart fall into my stomach. His eyes are red. In the blue light of our porch lantern, his usually pink lips are barely visible on his white face. I’ve never seen him like this, and it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and tell him I take everything back.

Still, my will is iron. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about everything, and you’re not being fair to me.”

Of course. Logan is as obsessed with fairness as an eight year old boy. Lauren told me it’s a twin thing, an unreasonable expectation after being given everything you’ve ever owned in a matched pair. “It’s not about fairness.”

“You’re a just person.” He looks down. “Or you used to be. At the very least, hear me out.”

I glance at my watch. “You have two minutes.”

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