Page 22

“Are you a student as well?” Cassidy asked, hefting the books into both of her arms.
I shook my head, sniffing. “No, I … I’m here to visit my friend. Pierre. The one who was just got beat up. He goes to school here,” I explained, sounding like I was reading off a script. I just wanted to get out here. “Look,” I said, pressing another grim smile onto my lips.“I appreciate the act of kindness, but I should really—”
“You and Pierre are friends?” Her voice perked up, and then her whole expression fell into deep concern. She took another step closer to me, drawing her eyebrows together as she put a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God. See, I saw what was happening and called campus security. Jesus. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” I said quickly, narrowing my eyes at her. The way she said Pierre’s name—it was as if she knew him personally. “You two know each other?”
Cassidy looked confused for a moment before replying, “Pierre? Yeah, well …” She glanced downward, as if she was trying to hide her blushing. I let out a long breath. “He’s a classmate of mine. We have molecular bio together.” Lifting an eyebrow, she leaned forward as if to whisper a secret. “Just between us girls, I kind of fancy him a bit. You’re his friend, so, I understand if that makes things weird, or whatever. But that’s the truth, anyway. I’d rather tell you than not.”
I shook my head, not because it was a little weird, considering that I had fucked him less than twelve hours ago. This girl was too sweet to need to know that.
“It’s not weird at all,” I replied, smiling genuinely at her for the first time, using the moment to really look at her. Warm, large brown eyes, petite mouth, slightly alternative style of dress—ripped jeans coupled with a jean jacket, the logo of some British band painted along the sleeves. “Actually, I think you two would be cute together. Have you asked him out?”
I meant it. If I wasn’t practically the only girl Pierre had spoken to since his birth, then someone like Cassidy would be his best bet. I liked her for him—he deserved someone like her. Someone who’d call for help while witnessing a fight rather than stand and watch. In other words, someone decent. You think that’d be a given.
It wasn’t.
Besides … it’s not like what was going on between Pierre and I was serious. We loved each other for many reasons, but most of all, because we were best friends. Nothing would change that.
Cassidy’s mood seemed to plummet the second the question slipped out of my mouth. Part of me wondered if she knew about me and Pierre, or that she’d been friend-zoned by him for a while now and was aware of everything. But there was no way she’d be this friendly toward me.
People could be nice, they could have good hearts. They could call the police. But love triangles? They don’t work. Not in the real world.
“No, I haven’t,” she said, shrugging. “Well, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. He has a girlfriend. I mean, I’m sure you know about it all. But you understand where I’m coming from, I mean, I wouldn’t want to cause a conflict or any of that. That’s the last thing I’d want.”
Now this was interesting. So, maybe Pierre did talk about me as his girlfriend. Maybe he did see us as something more than … best friends with benefits.
Time to test the waters.
“No way,” I said, leaning in toward her as I crossed my arms. “I wasn’t aware of that, actually. Who is it?”
I expected the girl to lift an eyebrow at me and say something like, Um, I’m pretty sure it’s you.
Instead, she replied with something I’d never thought I’d hear in a million years.
“I don’t know, really.” She shrugged as she did last time, as if she didn’t care, because it was none of her business. Yeah. Maybe she was too nice. “Apparently it’s an online type of thing. He told me he got some random text one day from someone. Turns out the girl who texted him got the number from some other guy, who’d given her a fake number after a bad date. She texted him anyway and they started talking. They seem pretty serious for a long-distance relationship. Kind of romantic, I guess.”
“Yeah,” I snorted, turning away from her, “I guess.”
Something told me Pierre was just making shit up instead of explaining to people our real situation. But why?
Was he ashamed of me?
She must’ve noticed my little moment of internal agitation, because I felt her hand on my shoulder and she began to guide me forward. “Do you need help getting somewhere? If you’re staying in the city, there’s a shuttle that goes to Trafalgar Square.”
“No, I’m alright, thanks,” I replied, politely shrugging her off. “I should probably stick around, since I’ll have to go check up on Pierre.”
It didn’t make sense to go back to the apartment, anyway. What was I supposed to do there?
Cassidy nodded. “Want me to show you around? At least keep you company until you go to see him.”
She said the offer so carefully, as if afraid that I might reject it. I couldn’t push this girl away, not now. Maybe I could get to know her, help her, even—who knew, maybe if I could find out what made this girl tick, then I could help her convince Pierre that she was better for the both of us.
Or maybe … I just wanted to distract him.
Anything to keep him from finding out the truth about Elliot. Anything to keep from breaking his heart. And if I did, at least he’d have someone else to help heal it. Maybe that made me a sick person. Maybe it made me a bad friend.
Either way, I was just doing what was right for him. That’s all I ever tried to do.