Page 79 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

When the server walks away, the table feels quiet. I hate that Lucy's bummed. But if I was worried about how well she'd handle shit a month ago, today, I'm so damn proud. She's not spiraling. She's not stressing. She's just sad her friend sucks. And that's totally reasonable.

"Delaney. My life isn't easy. It's never been easy. But I know yours isn't either. Everyone struggles in their own way. I don't get why you're punishing me for when things work out for me. But it doesn't mean—"

"Things don't just work out for you, Lucy. Do you not see how things just magically fall into place around you? I posted that video about you being a toxic prick, and your numbers didn't budge. I mean, did you lose a single advertiser? No. Because everyone came down on me after Portia, Cara and Mary-Anne spoke out against me. They were my friends too! And they chose your side!"

Aaand, we're back to delusional.

"Excuse me, Delaney, but if you think I want to stay friends with someone who treats other people—friend or not—the way you've treated Lucy, you're out of your damn mind."

Delaney waves her off. "Whatever. My point is. As usual, Lucy came up smelling roses. So. I'm sorry, or whatever. I'll lay off. But if you're not going to take me back as a friend, what are we even doing here?"

"I want you to stop posting terrible things about me. I won't even get into how the only reason people are going against you right now is because you're bringing it all on yourself by acting this way. Just… leave me alone."

I'm pretty good at reading people. I've no idea if this bitch is gonna lay off. But for a moment—and it's brief, blink and you'd miss it—remorse clouds her expression. Remorse and maybe sadness. But it's gone just as fast.

She crosses her arms and in her husky voice, says, "Fine."

The server drops the drinks off then, and Portia and I waste no time glugging down big ass sips. Shit is tense.

I give Lucy a minute, but my girl steps up before I do, so I stay quiet, putting my hand on her thigh in silent support. "Okay, well, what about the pictures? Are you going to stop with those?"

"What pictures?"

"The ones of Mateo," Lucy grits.

"Oh. Well, those are online now, not much we can do about those. But you can't see his dick in them, and I already publicly admitted we didn't have an affair." Delaney's attention flits in and out as she waves at people across the bar, sipping her drink, acting none of this is that big a deal. It's so fucked up, this world she lives in, this sheath she's built around herself, like she's got a free pass to fuck around all she wants, who cares who gets hurt in the process.

I'm here to support Lucy, but also, fuck this bitch. Matty's twisted up over those pictures. "She's talking about the pictures you took and doctored with AI, the ones with his face and some fuck boi porn star's body."

Delaney narrows her eyes and shrugs. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. We've had three pictures delivered to the apartment of Mateo Torres being sexually exploited. He may not be thinking of that shit as assault, but it is, and I'm not gonna fucking put up with it."

Finally, Dleaney sits up straight. "Wait, what? I didn't do that! What the hell are you talking about?"

"You didn't send sexually explicit pictures of him?"

She bites her lip. "Okay, well, just the once. But his lawyer already showed up at my apartment and told me he'd sue me for every penny I had if I didn't take down the originals of me and him, and apologize." Then her eyes water and she turns to Lucy. "Lucy-Bear, I swear, those were the only pictures I took! And I apologized immediately. But you know how the internet works, there's no way I can take those pictures back. Besides, I'm not even the one who first shared them! So he can't sue me for shit."

Then she crosses her arms petulantly and leans back, daring us to push her. We do.

"So there just happen to be two of you out there, tormenting me and my family?"

"Yes!"

Lucy throws her hands up in the air, exasperated. Delaney continues, "Look, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry I was a dick about the online shit, but I don't know anything about any pictures. I swear. Maybe it was the same person who sent me the ones they made of me and Mateo, OMGspeaktome was her handle. Remember? I told you about her."

"And OMGspeaktome isn't you?"

"No! Look, I may be a dick—" Portia snorts into her glass at Delaney's declaration, but she just growls at her ex-friends and continues, "but, I'm not an idiot. Mateo's like, a millionaire, I'm not about to fuck around with getting sued by him. He's hot but he's not like,thathot, you know?"

Lucy's back to rubbing her temples. We really haven't got anywhere. Maybe Mateo should have come, afterall.

Delaney picks up her drink and downs the remaining contents, then comes to a stand. She wobbles a little and I wonder how long she's been here drinking before we showed up. "I'll stop making live videos about you. But I'll keep it up if he even thinks about suing me. I didn't make any more pictures."

She leaves in a whirlwind of patchouli and vodka. Portia and Lucy talk through the aftermath for a few minutes before she says she's got a date, leaving me and Lucy alone at the table.

"Want another?"

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