Page 65 of Firefly
Bianca snorts before climbing down the stairs with two greasy breakfast sandwiches.
“Eat before you throw up,” she tells me, and I groan, but take the sandwich anyway.
Silence stretches between us for a minute before she finally says something.
“So…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.” I glare at her. “And no.”
“You really hooked up with that guy to make Hayden jealous?” she asks with a raised brow.
Heat floods my face immediately.
“Please just let me die,” I say, and she laughs.
“You did. Did you fuck him?” she asks, and I shove the sandwich in my mouth not wanting to admit out loud what I fucking did. “Oh shit! Was it any good?”
“B… No! Absolutely not. Sex with anyone else but him is really a waste of time. They don’t know my body and mind like he does. I don’t even think he made me cum,” I say, and she laughs loudly.
“Well damn, but for what it’s worth, Hayden looked homicidal.”
That shouldn’t make my heart flutter but it does.
“He brought another girl,” I say, and her expression shifts.
“He sure did.”
“He kissed her in front of me.” My throat tightens painfully. “Like I meant nothing.”
“You disappeared for a month, O.”
The reminder stings because she isn’t wrong.
But Hayden doesn’t understand.
None of them do.
I wasn’t avoiding him because I stopped loving him. I avoided him because loving Hayden Marks feels like standing in the middle of a burning building hoping the flames decide not to touch me this time.
“So now you’re defending him,” I say throwing my water bottle at her.
“I’m not defending him. I’m just stating facts.” She shrugs. “You ready to go home? You can’t run from this shit. Even if I want to keep you here. Hold your ass hostage, I know I can’t, so what’s the plan?” she asks, and I sigh, finishing off my sandwich.
“Gotta face the music, right? Whatever it is, it is. But I won’t go down without a fight,” I say, and she nods, getting up from the couch and grabbing her keys.
The entire ride home, my anxiety grows claws because I know my father is going to lose his mind.
And judging by the number of missed calls lighting up my phone… he already has.
I hug B goodbye and promise to keep her updated, and the second I step through the front doors of my so-called home, I know I’m fucked.
My father stands in the foyer waiting for me. Still dressed in yesterday's suit. Which means he never went to bed.
His expression alone makes me shiver with fear.
