If I'm Being Honest(36)
I nod, conflicted. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her everything. Except that’ll only hurt her worse. It’s the kind of brutal honesty I could imagine Katherine dispensing just to twist the knife.
Then again, I’m not known for being nice. Telling Leila feels like the right thing to do, whatever it says about me.
“I know you’re going to think I’m trying to hurt you or stir up shit with Jason,” I say in a rush. “But I don’t care. You deserve to know. Jason’s been cheating on you for the past couple weeks.”
Leila flinches. She stares at me for a hanging moment, her expression unreadable. I know I’m not the one who hurt her. Jason is. But like on Tuesday, I want to escape how I know she’s feeling. I want to give her space, or maybe I selfishly want to avoid watching her cry.
“I knew it,” she finally says, her voice nearly a whisper. She sits down heavily. “It’s Elle, isn’t it?” Her eyes find mine, but they don’t contain the accusation I anticipated. Her expression is closer to defeat. “It’s why she’s been avoiding him.”
“Um.” I’m caught off guard. I won’t betray Elle even if I’m not exactly comfortable with what she did.
“Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” Leila’s talking to herself now. She rubs her eyes, and her voice comes out choked. “He’s such a dick.”
“He really is,” I reply, relieved we’ve found something to agree on. Leila gives a teary laugh. “I honestly don’t get what everyone sees in him.”
Her face falls. She glances toward the door. “Well, he used to have a really sweet side. Before he got obsessed with attention, with everyone treating him like a celebrity.”
I nod, not knowing how to contribute to the conversation. It’s hard to imagine a Jason who doesn’t strut his way into every party, who’s not interested in girls plural hanging on his every word, whose number-one goal isn’t everyone knowing his name. I wonder if I never knew that Jason because he wasn’t interested in those things, because the quiet, sweet guy wouldn’t have been on my radar.
Leila stands up. I follow her to the door. She hesitates, and I realize it’s because she’s remembered Jason might be waiting. Reaching past her, I push open the door. I’ve never been good at comforting, but I hope she understands I’ve got her back on this.
We step outside, and he’s not there. Leila’s eyes scout the field. Wherever Jason is, he’s nowhere to be found. I don’t know if it’s a relief or a final slap in the face. “You didn’t deserve this,” I say haltingly. “He should have been honest with you.”
“He should have,” she says, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Then she turns to me. “But you were. Thank you.”
Seventeen
I FIND A PERFECT PARKING SPOT IN front of the Depths of Mordor. It’s definitely a good omen.
I drove to the bookstore flush with purpose after walking Leila to her car. Before I go into Mordor, I open my notebook and edit my amends list.
People I Need to Make Amends with, and How
Paige Rosenfeld, for calling her pathetic—fix things with Brendan
Brendan Rosenfeld, for giving him the nickname that allegedly ruined his life—find a way to undo his unpopularity
Grant Wells and Hannah Warshaw, for the worst two-month relationship in history—get them back together
Leila, for being cruel about her relationship with Jason tell her the truth about what her boyfriend did behind her back
I’m confident I can continue to make progress on the Grant-and-Hannah project. I have news for Paige, too. I texted with Brendan. That’s certain to earn me points, if not Paige’s forgiveness altogether.
There’s a mirror propped up on a lamppost on the sidewalk, and an elderly gentleman is snapping selfies in a red coat in front of it. I’m about to walk into the bookstore when the door opens—and Paige walks out.
She pauses when she recognizes me. “What are you doing here, Bright?”
“Um. Looking for you,” I fumblingly reply.
At that, Paige cuts me a grin. “Careful,” she says. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you wanted to be my friend.”
I recover. “‘Friend’ is a strong word.” Paige laughs. “Where are you going?” I ask.
She nods in the direction of Mordor’s tiny parking lot. “Andrew’s. I completely forgot I said I’d help him on a History presentation.” She skirts around me. “I was supposed to meet him at his house fifteen minutes ago,” she adds apologetically.
A pang of jealousy hits my chest. I used to work on homework with Andrew, not Paige. I’m here for a reason, I remind myself.
“Hey,” I say, catching up to Paige in front of her car. I notice a couple dings it didn’t have when I helped her with the sewing machine a few days ago. “Brendan gave me his number,” I say.
Paige pauses, hand on the door. She arches a suggestive eyebrow.
“It’s not like that!” I go on. Or I’m fairly certain it’s not. “I just—” I don’t know what I planned to tell Paige other than that. “Did you know he’s really funny?” I hear myself ask, then remember I’m talking to his sister.