Page 122 of Damnation
For a moment, we’re both silent, staring into space. Then Tiffany says, “I can hardly believe it; this feels like some surreal story.”
“I know, but it’s the awful truth.”
“So Logan had nothing to do with it?”
My head snaps up. “Logan? Why do you ask about him?”
“Because last week I saw him leaving the cafeteria and he was in a bad way. He had a black eye. I thought…”
I freeze. “W-what?”
Tiff nods her head, which tells me everything I need to know. I feel my legs give out, and I grab on to the kitchen counter with both hands.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Oh God, what have I done? “N-no…I…I think I’ve screwed up big time.”
“What does that mean?”
Breathing heavily, I begin to pace and fan myself. “I told Thomas that I slept with Logan.”
“You slept with Logan?” she shrieks. “What the hell is wrong with your brain?”
“No! I mean, we did kiss, and then he…” I pause, thinking back on that moment, and I feel the same nauseous feeling rising again. “But then I stopped him,” I confess, without going into too much detail. I think I hear her whisper something that sounds like, “Thank God!”
“So you just told him that out of spite?”
“I told him that because I was suffering! I was angry, and I wanted to hurt him! It was stupid, I realize that, and I regretted it the moment I did it, but I didn’t think…” I can’t get air. “I–I didn’t even think for a second about the consequences my words could have for Logan. I should have anticipated it; I should have protected him, and instead…”
“Okay, okay, calm down. It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it is! If I hadn’t lied, Logan wouldn’t have a black eye right now.”
“Thomas shouldn’t have gone and hit him, no matter what! Especially not after the things he did himself.”
“I have to call him; I need to know if he’s okay.” I grab my phone out of the drawer in the bedside table. I call him but, after the sixth unanswered ring, I hang up in frustration. “He’s not picking up!”
“Maybe he’s busy?”
“He’s going to hate me, Tiff. He’ll hate me forever,” I rave desperately.
“Okay, that’s enough.” She pulls the cell phone out of my hands and puts it on the bed. She takes me by the shoulders and looks me right in the eye. “You don’t need to worry about him right now, okay? In fact, you don’t need to worry about anyone except yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I answer in a small voice, unable to meet her eyes.
“Oh, you’re fine? Is that why you haven’t been coming to class and you’ve lost weight?” she notes with a hint of reproach, folding her arms over her chest.
“I’m getting notes for my classes and keeping up with the studying. There’s no need to worry about my weight, because I assure you I’m eating just fine.”
“Rice cakes don’t count.” She looks pointedly at a half-empty bag of them left open on my desk. “Listen, you’re broken, and I get it. You put your heart and soul into the relationship, it went tits up, and that sucks. It really, truly sucks. But you can’t wither away like this. I won’t let you. So we’re getting out of here.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” I tell her, more brusquely than I want to.
“Well, too bad. That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Even if I have to drag you out of here by your hair, which I will absolutely do. Considering that, I suggest you go take a shower, because God knows you need it. And then we’re going out.”
Reluctantly, I admit defeat and do as she tells me. Because I know my friend, and she is possibly the most determined person in the world. If she’s decided that she’s going to get me out of this room today, then nothing is going to get in her way.
After washing my hair and putting it into a low ponytail, I put on a baggy sweat suit that, judging from the look she gives me, Tiffany does not approve of. For once, though, she lets it go, just pursing her lips and shrugging. “You ready?” she asks me, pulling her coat back on and swinging her purse over her shoulder.
