Page 92 of Fraternizing with the Enemy
Even though I knew, I found myself whispering, “Photo?”
The photo Maisie took of me in my driveway. The photo Babble deemed more important than whoever Connor had in the hookup closet. Had Maisie posted me as revenge…
Or save herself?
Noway. That was the only thing my brain could muster. No way, no way, no way.
Jade’s focus returned, eyes sharpening again on me. Even though Maisie had left, the bathroom felt impossibly small, like there was no space left to cower into. She’d been serious before, but now her eyes were crystal clear, and focused solely on me. “Who do you think it is?” she asked. “The girl in that photo with Logan Castle?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in the bathroom. “W-What?”
“You had to have noticed, too, right? His jersey number?”
Jersey number. His name had been partially cut off, but she knew Logan’s jersey number.
“We could ruin her, too,” Jade went on, and her voicewas smooth. She reached out to rub a lock of my hair between her fingers. “Her and whoever the girl in the closet was.”
Not yet. The two words were a whisper in my mind.Just a little bit longer. Not yet.
“I don’t know,” I said as calmly as I could. “Crazy… that he switched to someone else so fast.”
In my peripheral, I could see my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Was it just me, or did my nose seem longer?
Jade chuckled once, a soft, barely there sound that almost sounded like a scoff. “Right?”
For some reason, when Jade turned to walk out of the bathroom, Maisie’s voice echoed again in my head.I didn’t expect my best friend to sabotage me, but sure, let’s make it my fault.She’d trusted me without wavering, not second-guessing me once, and I’d stabbed her in the back. And for some reason, staring at Jade’s spine, I couldn’t help but wonder. “Jade?”
She looked over her shoulder. “What?”
“In Expresso’s that day. You recognized Noah.”
Jade seemed to pause before answering, like she was surprised of the sudden topic. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t recognize Logan?”
Jade hadn’t been surprised when I pointed out that Noah, who’d been in his Expresso’s uniform, had been a Bulldog. No, sheknew. She knew him as the quarterback from the year before. And when Logan had walked in, Ashton knew him, too.Been a while, hasn’t it?
If Ashton recognized Logan, and Jade recognized Noah, and Logan and Noah were best friends, it wasn’t a far jump that…
Jade fully turned around then, tilting her head in away that had me stiffening. “Are you asking me if knew Logan was from Jefferson all along?”
Hearing her speak the sudden suspicion aloud had me freezing. The thought had crept in so easily, so naturally, as if some dark corner of me was waiting for a reason not to trust her. And now, guilt crept in just as easily. “No,” I said, backing down before the doubt could root itself any deeper. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Don’t you think, as your best friend, I would’ve told you if I knew?”
“Of course.” I closed my eyes, shaking out the stupid thought. “Of course you would’ve. You wouldn’t have let me date him if you’d known he was a Bulldog.”
I felt like I was drowning beneath a crushing wave in the middle of the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to pull the words back and sink through the floor. Jade wasn’t the one betraying me. She wasn’t the one keeping secrets. In my head, she blurred into Maisie for a second—someone who’d trusted me without question—and the thought of that made my stomach turn. She hadn’t accused me, hadn’t demanded answers.
A sharp pain throbbed in my chest, heavy and relentless.What is wrong with me?
Jade crossed the short distance and picked up my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You know I’d trust you ’til the end, Mads.”
Her faith felt like sunlight and a blade at the same time, warming and cutting. The knife in my chest twisted. I was replaying freshman year over again—Jade was Maisie, and I was too selfish to stop. “And I’ll follow you,” I said, the lie tasting metallic. “’Til the end.”
Friday, before I had to be back at Brentwood for our football game and before Logan had to be at Jefferson for his, we went out to Lookout Ledge. It was the tallest point in Brentwood, a road winding its way up a hill. You could see the tops of the trees from the bridge, and there was a little patch of gravel where people normally parked for the view.
Logan specifically borrowed his dad’s truck today, parking off the road and popping the bed undone. He’d brought blankets and pillows to create a cushion against the hard metal, and we both lay down on it, staring up at the sky. It was full of white, puffy clouds, making it perfect to pick out shapes. “That’s totally a football,” I said, pointing to one.
