Page 186 of How to Lose at Love

“What is it you want to say, Tiffany?”

She hugs her arms across her body defensively. “I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

I tilt my head to the side, not letting my facial expression change for a second.

“Sorry for what?”

My mother used to do this to me when I was younger; I’d apologize for something after I knew she was upset—then she’d ask me to clarify why. She never wanted me to say I was sorry unless I actually meant it and understood what I was apologizing for, which is why I do the same thing to Tiffany.

“I’m sorry I set you up.” She’s uncomfortable, tugging at the fabric of her gray hoodie.

“But you didn’t set me up. You set Dallas up.”

Over her shoulder, I see two girls come out on the porch, watching with robes on as if we were a sideshow. And perhaps we are; the situation has the potential to have a dramatic conclusion.

Like Dallas, they don’t budge from their spot.

Great.

An audience, just what I need.

Tiffany tries again. “I meant I’m sorry I set him up. I know it had to upset you.”

It did upset me, obviously—it would have upset anyone.

I let her talk, zero interest in filling the silence with wasted words.

“I wasn’t thinking. I was…” She struggles to find words, and I struggle to decide if she’s being sincere. Hard to tell. “Caught up in the moment. When the paparazzi contacted me, I thought, what the hell—why not?”

Why not?

See, that right there…

“How much did they pay you?”

“Not a lot.”

“How much?” I pull my hands out of my pockets, and this time I do cross them over my chest.

“Five hundred.”

This girl tried ruining my relationship for fifteen minutes of fame, for five hundred dollars?

Wow.

“I’m not impressed,” I blurt out. “Like, besides the money, what was your motivation exactly? All you needed to do was get the money shot. Did you actually have to offer to suck my boyfriend’s dick?”

Tiffany steps back from me, insulted. “Excuse me?”

“He told me you asked if you could suck. His. Dick.” I enunciate the word dick, draw the sentence out slowly, wanting to embarrass her in the only way I can.

I’m not the kind of brat who’s going to go crying to the press, so this will stay between the two of us, unless of course she decides to run to the press like she did the last time she didn’t get her way.

“What?!” Tiffany looks outraged. “Why would he do that?”

Why would he tell me?

“I’m sorry, does that bother you?” I snort. I mean, for real, is she serious? “He told me because I’m hisgirlfriend. He told you he had one after you propositioned him.”

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