Page 23 of New Year

“She threw a drink in his face,” Oliver points out. “Was he supposed to thank her?”

“No, but Lindsey didn’t do that. Elaine did.”

Oliver shrugs. “Same difference.”

“It’s very much not,” I say coldly, offended on Lindsey’s behalf.

“Okay,” Oliver says, clearly not convinced.

“They couldn’t be more different,” I insist. “Lindsey’s an angel. Elaine is pretty much the devil.”

“Okay.”

“You’re clearly biased because your friend doesn’t like her. You don’t even know her.”

“You’re right,” he says. “Maybe she’s changed.”

“You’re telling me Lindsey used to be as mean as Elaine? I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not telling you she used to be anything,” he says. “I’m telling you what happened.”

“So, what happened?” I challenge.

“Nate used to be in their group,” he says. “In junior high. They had a falling out, and they bullied him until he left school.”

“What did he do?”

“He transferred to Willow Heights for a year. He wanted to come back, so he talked to his parents, and he says their families stepped in and promised no one from her group would bother him.”

“No, I mean, what did he do to piss them off before?”

Oliver doesn’t answer for a minute as we walk through the wet, dead leaves on the forest floor. “I’m not at liberty to say,” he mutters at last.

“So you don’t like my friend, and you say she’s a bad person but you won’t tell me anything bad she did, or what your friend did to her, but you expect me to just take your word thathe’s right and she’s wrong because you’re so righteous and pure that your judgment must be without question?”

“I don’t expect anything,” he says coolly. “You asked me. I’m answering the questions I’m comfortable answering.”

“Okay, so you don’t like Lindsey, and I’m assuming Elaine? Is there anyone in our group you do like?”

“I play ball with a lot of those guys,” he says. “I try to get along off the court too.”

“So you’re okay with Chase? Greg?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone else? What about Daria? Let me guess, somehow your brother’s the victim in that situation?”

“No,” he admits. “He wasn’t a victim. But more than one girl paid for his indiscretions.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means every girl he was interested in ended up on the wrong end of the kind of rumor it’s hard to recover from,” he says. “Except your friend. Funny how that worked out.”

“Great,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “You hate all my friends, and now I’m stuck with you for three hours while you talk shit about them.”

“Stop asking my opinion if you don’t want to hear it.”

“Guess we can just search in silence. This’ll be fun. So glad we’re paired up.”

---