Page 71 of Damnation
I give him a confused look. “You mean at the dinner?”
He nods confidently.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “You’d really come to my house to have dinner with my mother?”
He looks unhesitatingly into my eyes. “Do you want me to be there?”
I don’t even need a half second to think about it. Of course I want him there. Having him there would mean the world to me.
“Yes. Your presence would make me feel better.”
“Then I’ll be there,” he answers, and my heart threatens to burst from my chest.
He has no idea how much this gesture means to me. I smile at him and hug him tightly. I want to say something more than just thank you, but suddenly, all I seem to feel is terrible guilt. I remember my conversation with Logan, our encounter yesterday, and the fact that Thomas knows nothing about all of it. I’ve kept it from him, and although I had a good reason, I know that I can’t make a relationship work with lies of omission. He’s trying really hard to open up to me. To let me feel a part of him, of his world. It’s not fair; he needs to know about Logan, and he needs to know now.
I pull back just far enough to lock eyes with him and clear my throat. “Thomas, listen, I have something to tell you—”
His phone vibrates in his pocket. I can’t believe it. Excellent timing, as usual. He takes it out, checks the name on the display, and answers it. “Hey. What? No, wait, it’s too loud here; I can’t hear you.”
He puts the phone against his chest and brings his mouth close to my ear. “It’s my sister; I’m stepping out for a minute. Don’t disappear, okay?”
I nod, just a little apprehensively.
The moment Thomas walks out the door, I see Tiffany collapse on the sofa in the living room. Her cheeks are slightly red, her hair is sweat soaked, and her mascara is smudged. I head over and sit down next to her. “Hey, are you okay?” I try to hold back a laugh as I take in her not exactly pristine condition.
“Hell yeah, I am. I won four games! Then my head started spinning, and I realized it was time to throw in the towel. I’m thirsty. Thirsty for water, lots of water. Would you go get some water for me?” She straightens up a bit and tries to wipe the smeared makeup off with her fingers.
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” I pat her knee and go to the kitchen for a nice glass of cold water. When I get back, she drains it in one gulp. She’s tipsy, and it shows, but I’m relieved to see she’s not completely wasted.
“Who chose this terrible music?”
I cock an eyebrow as I hand her a tissue to dab herself dry. “You don’t like Hendrix?”
“Too noisy for my current condition,” she whines, squinting.
I laugh out loud, but in truth, I can’t shake off this creeping feeling of distress. I stay silent for a moment before deciding to speak. “Hey, Tiff? Do you think you have a little bit of sobriety left to dedicate to your best friend?”
My request seems to goad her a little, as she suddenly sits up straight. “Of course. Shoot!”
I sigh deeply, putting the tissues back on the coffee table in front of us, and sink back against the couch cushions, watching all the drunk people around us.
“On my way to the arena, I ran into Logan,” I confess. At the mere mention of his name, Tiffany screws up her mouth and rolls her eyes. She never liked him.
“What did he want?”
“To tell me some good news,” I say, devoid of enthusiasm.
“Which was…?”
“Long story short, I’m supposed to be his philosophy tutor.”
Tiffany puts her hand over her mouth in disbelief and utters a tiny whispered “No…”
“Yeah…” I answer apathetically.
“Does Thomas know?”
“No, not yet. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m going to do…”
