Page 35 of Almost
“He’s nice,” Penelope answers vaguely, pulling her dark hair over her shoulders. It’s weird that her hair is longer than mine now, considering the entire time I’ve known her, mine has always been longer.
I look at her in confusion as I roll the paint onto the wall, “I seriously hope you’re going to tell us more than he’s nice? Do I need to be worried about tracking you when you’re not at home?”
“You have no problem keeping your own secrets, so why can’t I keep mine?” she asks with a pointed look.
Damn, okay.
“I don’t keep secrets,” I say flatly, turning to focus on the paint. I hope Penelope drops it.
“Oh really?”
Okay, we’re not dropping it.Awesome.I dip the roller into the paint, taking care not to drip onto the hardwood. “Really.”
“Then do you have feelings for Sebastian?” Penelope asks bluntly, and I think my heart stutters in my chest at the question.
“I hate you. I’m not answering that question.”
“Pen, if we all know, then it’s not a secret,” Blake adds in. I focus intently on the wall, because I think it’d be really tempting to fling green paint at them. I really should have pushed harder for black paint.
“I don’t have feelings for Sebastian,” I insist stubbornly, fighting every instinct in me telling me that it’s a lie.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I will because there isn’t really another option.
“So he isn’t the reason you locked yourself in your room four days ago?” Penelope asks curiously.
No. It really wasn’t Sebastian’s fault, but I doubt they’d believe me if I told them it was Kiera’s.
After I got home, I needed the night to process what I’d seen. I guess I incorrectly assumed Penelope had gone with Chris and Henry to Owen’s for dinner if she noticed I was hermiting.
I still can’t believe Kiera was having sex with her fucking study buddy. Can I start calling him her fuck buddy now in my head since I’m not sure how much studying they’re actually doing? And where the hell does she get off telling me that I owe her? If anything, Kiera owes me because I’ve put up with all of this shit forherwedding to my ex-boyfriend.
She’s been calling me constantly the last few days, and I’ve ignored every single one, in addition to deleting every text that comes through. I’ve already seen more than I wanted to. I just want her to leave me alone—actually, I want both of them to leave me alone. Is that too much to ask for?
Sebastian might have been acting like a jackass, but he doesn’t deserve to be cheated on by his fiancée. No one deserves that.
The other part of me has been trying to understand why her first instinct after learning the truth was to screw another man? It’s making me understand Sebastian better, and why he hid the truth from her for so long.
Bash is an idiot, but he’s also kind of great if you’re the one being loved by him. I know what that feels like better than anyone, but he loves her. I’m the one who was almost the worst thing that happened to him.
I haven’t been able to shake the similarity in the way he looked at me on the deck that night to the way Sebastian used to look at me. Except then I punched him, so it’s all going so great for me.
“Thalia?” she asks, and I shake my head, trying to push Sebastian out of my head. It’s proven to be a lot harder than I expected if the past few years are any indication.
“No, it wasn’t because of him,” I answer quietly. I don’t trust myself to say more.
“Was it Eric? Did he say something to you?” Blake’s voice is now laced with concern.
I look at her in confusion. “Why are you assuming it has to do with a guy? Maybe I was having a bad day?”
“Were you?” she asks, watching me carefully. I turn back, continuing to roll paint on the wall.
It’s better they don’t know. Blake said it herself—she has to put up with Sebastian because he’s Owen’s best friend. Telling Penelope and Blake might make me feel better, but it will surely complicate things further. At least now, I only have to deal with my own guilty conscience for not telling Sebastian about Kiera’s actions. I’m not super interested in hearing what Blake and Penelope have to say about it right now.
“Yeah. I was having a bad day. It didn’t have to do with Eric or Sebastian.” Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, it might become true. “It was just a really bad day.”
~