Page 47 of Collision
“But what are you doing here? Weren’t you at Carol’s? With Travis?”
“Yeah, we were there,” I reply wearily, massaging a temple.
Matt peers at me suspiciously. “Are you all right?”
An unhappy laugh escapes me. “Look, let’s cut to the chase here.You knew?” I ask straight-out, crossing my arms.
He doesn’t seem to understand. “What are you talking about?”
“About Travis, about his affairs. And about Leila.”
Matt stiffens. He parts his lips and lowers his head. Guilty.
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? You knew how he treated me and you didn’t say anything…” The words die in my mouth in the face of his regretful expression.
“When I found out, we fought. A lot. I made him promise he’d stop it. And he swore to me that he would. He was remorseful, he seemed determined to repair the relationship between you two. He begged me not to say anything. And I didn’t want to get in the middle. I thought I was doing the right thing,” he explains to me bitterly.
“I had a right to know. And then…Leila,” I say disgustedly. “How can you be friends with a person who is capable of something like that?” My eyes water painfully.
“We have been close since we were kids. What he did was wrong, but he’s still my friend.”
I shake my head, nauseated. This story is horrifying.
“What would you have done if it had been Alex instead of Travis?” he asks in the face of my silence.
“Don’t do that, Matt, don’t try to put Alex on that level,” I admonish him.
“Would you have turned your back on him?”
Yes! I think… I certainly wouldn’t have hidden everything from his girlfriend. Possibly.
“I expected a little more integrity from you. That’s all.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying.
“I was stuck in a shitty situation. Whichever side I took, I was going to end up hurting someone. I hoped it would end there.”
“Oh, it’s ended,” I spit bitterly.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, believe me.”
“It would have ended anyway,” I suddenly confess, realizing it is the truth. Still hurts, though.
He lays a hand on my arm and smiles sincerely. “I am your friendtoo. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets and glances around. “You here with someone?” he asks calmly.
“Um, yes.” I look around too. “But he’s gone now, and I’m regretting not being at home under the covers.”
“No regrets. You’re here now, so let’s have some fun.” He gestures for me to follow him into the garden. Apparently, according to Matt, there’s no better cure for a broken heart than beer pong. I quickly realize however, that challenging a basketball player to this game is not the smartest choice in the world. So before I end the evening behind some bushes throwing up gallons of beer, I decide to wave a white flag. I leave Matt to play with the others and go back into the house, which is now enveloped by a cloud of smoke. A group of shirtless girls and boys catches my attention.
They are sitting on the floor around a small wooden table. I approach, intrigued. They are playing strip poker. Among the half-naked bodies, Thomas’s powerful physique stands out, covered in tattoos. There is one in particular, one I’ve never seen before, that strikes me—so much so that I get lost examining it. It depicts a child kneeling, surrounded by two huge wings that cover his entire back, while clutching a black anatomical heart in his hands. It’s tragic but fascinating at the same time.
Next to Thomas, in tight jeans and a lacy bra, is Shana, with her red hair loose down her back and a joint between her fingers. So this is what you had to do so urgently, eh, Thomas?
When Shana notices my presence, her face twists into a contemptuous grimace. Wasting no time, she pounces on Thomas’s lips. He reciprocates as if compelled by inertia but pulls away annoyed after a few seconds.
“Oh, now this is a surprise. Forgot how to get home, little gutter rat?” the redhead chirps bitterly, favoring me with a disdainful look.
