I stand under the spray in the shower, and the water rolling down my cheeks feels like tears.
***
The problem with being friends with a traitor by the name of Cassie is that people who were friendly before are now avoiding you like the plague.
Like now.
I’m walking down the street, staring at storefronts, trying to take my mind off the present, when I run into some of the guys from the tattoo shop where Jesse works.
The one with the Mohawk is Zane. I remember him because that hairdo sure is impressive, but it takes me a moment to remember who the others are.
Micah is the tall, blond one, friend of Jesse’s and Seth’s, and he’s currently scowling at me like I’ve kicked his puppies. The tall dark-haired guy next to him isn’t looking happy to see me, either.
I stop to watch them pass, not sure what to do with myself. Not talking to them feels weird, but from their expressions I really don’t think they’d appreciate me chatting them up.
So I start when I realize they’ve stopped, too, just a few feet away.
“Hi,” I say, mortified.
“You Cassie’s friend?” the tall, dark-haired one asks. “Maud or something?”
“Manon,” I whisper, and oh God, my voice is barely audible.
Micah huffs and turns to—unlock the door of a shop?
DAMAGE CONTROL says the sign above. The tattoo shop where they’re all working. Didn’t realize it was here. I must have passed outside many times.
“Wanna come inside?” Zane asks, pausing at the store entrance. His dark eyes watch me intently. “Did you come by to see someone?”
“I was just passing by,” I whisper. “Seth… Seth works here, right?”
Zane’s almond-shaped eyes narrow. “Well, he’s one of our apprentices, though he hasn’t been around much these past few months.”
“Why not?”
“Accidents.” He turns to face me fully, and God, the guy’s huge, taller and wider than Seth. “First, he was beaten up by Ev’s psycho ex. Know Ev? Micah’s girl.” He nods at the shop. “And then by a guy who had a beef with Jesse. Seth’s been down on his luck lately, and it’s not like most of his life has been any better.”
That’s sad. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, because your friends don’t seem to like me much? Because of what Cassie did, I suppose.”
“You’re not Cassie. Or do you think what she did was okay?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s okay at all.”
“Then we’re fine.” He runs his hands over the shaved sides of his head. Silver hoops glint in one eyebrow. “As to why I told you about Seth…” He suddenly grins, a boyish, bright smile that catches me by surprise. “I like the way you said his name. I think you like him. And I think…” He leans closer, and I take a step back. “I think he could use some liking right now.”
He winks and turns away, opens the door and vanishes inside the shop.
Leaving me to stare after him, totally confused. Is this Zane’s way of telling me Seth could use a friend?
Because I could sure use one myself right now. It’s as if he read my thoughts from a minute ago.
And why not be friends?
I bite my lip, looking without really seeing the tattoo designs taped to the inside of the glass—snakes and skulls, hearts and roses.
Truth is, I’ve been worried about Seth, at home alone with his knee giving him trouble. Not eating. Nobody to prepare a compress for him. I’ve hesitated, unsure whether he’d want to see me again.
The person who ran him over and who’s best friends with Cassie.
But he’s the kindest person I’ve met in recent times. The way he didn’t openly blame me for hurting him, didn’t make me feel bad—not worse than I was already feeling. Then the way he smiled at me, held me close as I told him about my shitty day and my crushed dreams…
Least I can do is make sure he’s okay.
***
Too late I realize I didn’t ask Zane for Seth’s phone number or address. How am I going to find him now?
Stupid, Manon.
I’ve been too scatterbrained since I found out I was out of the dance program. All my focus had been on making the cut, and my thoughts are spinning out of orbit.
Cassie is the one who’s friends with Seth’s gang. She’s best friends with Ev, Micah’s girl.
Or was best friends with Ev. No idea how things stand now.
I drag my finger over the screen of my cell to find Cassie’s number and then hesitate. Should I ask her? Our brief talk yesterday didn’t end so well.
Do I want to hear what she has to say? Can there be an acceptable excuse for her selfish behavior? I’m not even sure I know her anymore.
But she’s still my friend. The possibility of patching up our friendship would mean a lot to me—and crap, I need her help with this. If I’m going to check on Seth, I need to do it soon, before I lose my nerve and say screw it.
She answers on the second ring. “Manon?”
“Hey.” I struggle for something to say.
“I’m so glad you called.” She sounds sad.
It makes me sad, too. “I thought about what you said. Maybe talking wouldn’t be a bad idea, after all. Let you explain about what happened. Seems only fair.”
“Thank you.” Her voice is lighter now. “Go for a drink with me? Tonight?”
I sink down on my sofa and images of Seth lying there assault me. “Sure. I need a favor, though.”
“Shoot.”
“You know you sometimes played pool with Shane and the guys? Before…” I sigh. “Before the incident with Jesse.”
A beat of silence. “Yeah.”
“Do you happen to have Shane’s number? Or any of the guys?”
“Maybe… Why? Oh, this is about Seth, isn’t it?”
Crap. “Look, Seth and I are just friends. Or trying to be.”
“So you don’t have the hots for pretty Seth?”
Is he pretty? I frown as my mind flashes those dark eyes back at me, the wide mouth, the square jaw, and that strong body… “No, I don’t. I’m dating Fred, did you forget?”
“No, I just think sometimes Fred forgets it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” She clears her throat. “Nada. Not trying to be a bitch, okay? I don’t often think things through before I talk.”
“Or act,” I say, because I’m getting pissed all over again.
“Or that,” she says in a small voice. “Listen, I’ll find his number for you, okay? It won’t be easy with everyone hating my guts right now, but I’ll find it. Consider it a reconciliation gift.”
***
My cell rings sometime in the afternoon as I half-doze watching Arrow on TV, but it’s not Cassie’s number flashing on the screen.
It’s Fred’s.
Heart thumping hard, I hit connect. “Yeah?”
“Hi, Madeline.” No idea why he insists on calling me by my full name like that. “How is it going?”
“I’m…” Not okay. Definitely not. “Fine. I’m glad you called.”
“Sorry I had to cancel yesterday. I really thought we’d get the evening free, but with the concert coming up, I guess it’s understandable that Brandon wanted to practice. He’s so nervous about this. Reminds me of my first year.”
“Yeah.” God, I shouldn’t be jealous that this Brandon took precedence over my troubles, but that’d be selfish. And it was nice of Fred to help the guy out. “How about coffee?”
“When?”
“Today. Now.” I’m smiling at the thought of seeing him. “What do you say?”
“Sure. Where?”
“There’s a new coffee shop down my street, if you don’t mind hoofing it over here. They have great espresso.”
“Espresso, huh?” He’s smiling now, too, I can hear it. He loves espresso. “Deal. Be there in an hour.”
I put down the cell, hop off the sofa and do a little dance of joy. I haven’t seen Fred in more than a week, and I’ve missed his crazy stories from the music academy and the dorms.
I flounce around the apartment, turn on some music and throw clothes out of my closet until I settle on cowboy boots and a white mini dress. I gather my hair up in a messy bun and stick two chopsticks in it.