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I could imagine him arching an eyebrow at me, as if to say, And?
“I mean, as far as I know, he’s never really been around,” he finally answered. “I know his mom, though. She’s cool. And hot.”
“Right,” I replied, shaking my head. “Very funny.”
It wasn’t a huge deal, or anything, but I guess I had a soft spot for dudes with troubled relationships with their parents. Even though I barely knew my own father, I couldn’t imagine never being able to see him. I’d want to see him. Maybe it sounded cliché, but to me, family was important. Pierre was just as much family to me as my mom. That proved it.
Speaking of which …
“How’s he doing?” Elliot asked. “Pierre.”
Hm. Good question.
Part of me wondered if I should fess up. Tell him that there were still feelings between us that had developed into something more … physical.
“He’s good, in general,” I started. “Except for today. He just got into a bad fight with some … friends.”
Some enemies would’ve sounded too dramatic.
“A fight?” Elliot laughed. “Pierre, fighting? Over what?”
Fuck.
I’d have to tell the truth sooner or later.
“Me.” I hated how the word sounded coming out of my mouth. “They were harassing me,” I clarified. “So … he stood up for me, and ended up getting hurt.”
Everything that had happened in the last week, all the drama, all the pain—it had to do with this. It had to do with Elliot’s jealousy and Pierre’s mental health and I had been caught in the middle of it. Of course, there had been more factors at play. If it weren’t for Vivian and that stupid video, then Pierre wouldn’t have been pushed over the edge.
And yet, it sounded crazy, but I was a little thankful.
Because Vivian brought out the envy. She exposed it. It had to come out, sooner or later.
“Wow.”
I waited to hear something more from him.
“That’s all?” I pressed. “Wow, what?”
“Wow, as in, I didn’t think he was capable of doing that.” I could imagine him raising his eyebrows at Felix or Leo, as if to say, You don’t believe this shit, do you? But it sounded like he was alone. “Good for him.”
I was pleased with his response. Maybe he had worked some of that possessiveness out of his psyche.
Just as I was about to say something, I heard a gruff voice from the background of Elliot’s phone, and it sounded like he was getting up to move from wherever he had planted himself.
“One sec.”
I waited until the shuffling stopped, and heard him talking to someone. Definitely wasn’t one his friends.
“Hey,” he said after a moment. “What were you gonna say?”
“Nothing,” I said, having forgotten whatever was supposed to come out of my mouth. “Where are you?”
“My dad’s. He’s—”
Ah. That explained the grumbling in the background. Elliot seemed to leave the phone for another second. I made out a few words—sounded like fuck you, and what she wants. Who she wants? No. It could’ve been anything, really.
Finally, Pierre returned. “Is everything alright?” I asked.