Page 40 of I Blame the Rival

I chew my lip, debating my next move. She hasn’t brought up the suicide attempt or the situation with her ex-boyfriend, so I don’t want to push.

“I think the most beautiful things in life take the most effort.” I speak slowly, trying not to overstep, “Even if it does take a little longer to help it grow.”

Her breathing goes shallow, “But what if it doesn’t turn out the way you want it to?”

“If someone’s heart is set on a single outcome, then there’s only one solution.”

“What’s that?”

“You buy a fake plant.”

Lacey bursts out laughing, “That’s one way to put it.”

I shrug even though she can’t see me, “Having something turn out exactly the way you imagined it sounds a lot more boring than discovering new features along the way.”

“Maybe you’re right.” The smile shines through her voice, “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Skylar.”

“Goodnight, Flower.”

Ending the call, I set my phone down and pull off my shirt. I crawl under the covers, glancing at the clock one last time to count down the number of hours until I get to see Lacey again.

A smile breaks across my face as a rare thought crosses my mind.

Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

Chapter9

Lacey

“So. You and Skylar.”

My roommate crosses her arms and stares me down. I fidget, sneaking a glance at my phone to see if Skylar is here yet.

“Uh, yeah. We’re friends.”

She raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize friends talk to each other until 3 AM.”

A flush stains my cheeks, the guilt of keeping her up all night washing over me.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize I was being that loud.”

“Well, now you know.” She sniffs, looking me up and down, “I should have known you’d get one of the Vin brothers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you.” Cecelia waves a hand in my direction and I glance down at the oversized fleece and leggings I’m wearing, “A long-legged Bambi waiting for a man to take away her innocence. Guys love that shit.”

I flinch as her words penetrate my skin. Jerrell said something similar that night, the accusation that my stature and physical features were the reason I ended up in the backseat of his car.

Swallowing the nausea rising up in my throat, I force my shoulders back and remember one of the first things my therapist taught me.

“How people behave has nothing to do with what I look like.”

You’re not to blame for what happened, Lacey. You asked him to stop and he decided not to listen. That was his choice, not yours.

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