Page 85 of Mic Drop

“Divorced. Two kids.”

So he does have a reason to sport his dad bod after all. “Did Lissa break up your marriage?” I almost add in the word, “too,” but manage to keep this bit of gossip out of our conversation. Besides, I haven’t been served with divorce papers yet.I never will.

“No, that honor belongs to my ex-wife. She hooked up with her personal trainer.”

“Ouch.” Holy shit, that sucks.

“Yeah.” He rubs his bald head. “Happened two years ago. I’m moving past it. When I saw what Lissa was trying to do to you, though, I couldn’t let another woman screw over one of my,” he glances directly into my eyes. “Friends.”

There’s that word again. It no longer applies to Curtiss and me, but it did once. I lean on those memories. “I appreciate it.”

Luke wades into the charged silence. “Bennett said you have proof she’s lying?”

“Right.” He jumps up from the table, disappears for a minute, then returns carrying some papers and photos, which he lays out in front of us. “Think these will work?”

Luke and I shuffle through the documents. Which turn out to be love notes between Lissa and Curtiss. Words that would have hurt me years ago, but with Jenna in my life now, they’re meaningless. Although, they do paint a damning picture of my high school sweetheart.

In the notes, she professes to be in love with Curtiss. Goes on and on about how good he makes her feel. Says she loves him, more than she ever did me.

Okay, those words sting the high school boy living inside of me. Not for the first time, I’m glad I lost my virginity to a groupie rather than to her. Lissa never was in love with me. I was a real dipshit back in high school. Guess I owe Darren an even bigger one for encouraging me to drop out. Coop, Río, and 007, too.

Luke flips through the last of the photos. “These certainly are damning, Curtiss. But I didn’t see anything about her being pregnant in any of them.”

I flip through the notes again, and my shoulders drop. “Luke’s right.”

He points to the photos from the Senior Prom. “Those show we were together, though, right?”

“They do,” Luke agrees.

But it’s not enough. Please let there be something else. “Did she ever send you anything when she got pregnant?” I ask. “Did you go with her to any doctor appointments?”

“She miscarried before her first appointment.”

I’m sunk. If he can’t prove anything more than they were together, there won’t be a way to stop the rumor mill. Noise at the front door captures our attention, and his parents enter the housecarrying bags. Both Curtiss and I rush to help them. Like old times. Sort of.

As soon as I take the bag, Mrs. Fanone’s free hand flies in front of her face. “Bennett Hardy? Is that you?”

My beef was with her son, never with her. “In the flesh.”

Disregarding the fact that I’m holding whatever she purchased, she hugs me, bag and all. “I can’t believe you’re here.” She squeezes me again.

Mr. Fanone comes over and shakes my hand, Curtiss now the proud recipient of the bags. “It’s so good to see you again, son.”

Son.

My dry mouth swallows gravel. “It’s nice to see you, too.” As a unit, we return to the kitchen, where Luke remains seated. I make introductions.

His father points to the notes and photos strewn across the table. “So what do you have there?”

Curtiss’s cheeks pinken. “I was showing them somethings Lissa sent me years ago.”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “We’re trying to figure out how to prove she’s been lying about being pregnant with Bennett’s baby. These notes are incriminating, but don’t tie Curtiss to the baby.”

Both his parents sit and sift through the notes. Then his mother’s eyes take on a weird gleam. She snaps her fingers and rushes out of the kitchen without a word. The three of us look to his father.

Mr. Fanone shrugs. “I dunno,” he answers our unasked question. “I do know, though, that we’ve been saddened by how Lissa’s been playing it in the media. She’s quite something.”

“An accomplished liar,” Curtiss adds.

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