Believe (True Believers #3)(46)
Author: Erin McCarthy

But whatever the reason, now those awful texts were the very thing that made my terrible secret no longer a secret.

“Kylie,” I whispered, shaking my head, not knowing what to say, what to do. There was a buzzing sound in my ears, and the tears were already there, blurring my vision, blurring the horrible sight of her staring at me looking like I had stabbed her repeatedly.

“You f**ked my boyfriend?” she demanded. “You f**ked my boyfriend? How could you do that, Robin?”

“What?” Rory gasped. “She wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.” She looked to me for confirmation, but I couldn’t deny it. “Oh no,” she said weakly.

Kylie made a sound of disgust and looked at the phone again. “May 31. Text from Nathan reads, “Last night was effing amazing. Let’s do that again.” June 3. Text from Nathan. “Is it weird that I think your pu**y tastes better than chocolate?”

Oh, God. I shook my head, stomach churning. “Stop. Don’t read any more of those.” I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was going to faint.

“Don’t?” Her finger came up, and she was crying now, heaving sobs. “Fuck you! How could you do that to me? I thought we were best friends. Oh, my God . . .” She dissolved into tears.

I was crying, too. “I didn’t mean to! I don’t even remember it, Kylie, I swear to you. I totally blacked out and when I realized . . . God, I was just sick. You have to believe it, I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Well, you have!” she shrieked. “Drunk is no excuse. None.” Then suddenly she was texting on my phone, crying and tapping and sniffling.

Oh, shit. “Kylie, don’t . . .” That was so not a good idea. She was texting Nathan on my phone. I reached for it in a panic.

But she just put her hand out and glared at me. “Don’t even, Robin, I am so serious right now. I will cut you.” Her voice was venomous.

“Just give me the phone,” I pleaded, reaching for it again.

But Kylie shoved me, and I stumbled.

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Rory said, eyes wide as she came around the coffee table. “Kylie, maybe we should go outside and talk about this.”

“I want to see if that f**king ass**le answers.” Kylie wiped her nose with her finger, her perfect French manicure neat and tidy against her streaking mascara and leaking nose.

I closed my eyes briefly, knowing that she was not going to see what she wanted to. That she was only going to add to her hurt.

“Oh, look, he answered,” she said, waving the phone and giving a watery laugh. “What was that, about a minute? Can’t remember the last time he answered me that fast. But then again, my pu**y doesn’t taste like chocolate. And I can’t remember the last time he wanted to f**k me hard, which was what he suggested to you in one of these twenty-seven text messages. Yes, twenty-seven!” She took a breath, then her lips moved as she silently read.

“What did you write to him?” Jessica asked nervously.

Did it matter? It wasn’t going to change anything. My hands were shaking, and I was sobbing myself, not even sure what to say to defend myself. There were no words to make this better and I hated myself all over again.

Kylie didn’t answer. She just suddenly lunged at me with a shriek, her nails catching me across the face before I could react. The sharp pain and the flailing arms caused me to scream, too, and I threw my hands up to block any further blows.

But she was already retreating, her face crumpling as the anger turned to distress. She threw my phone at me, and it bounced off my chest painfully and crashed to the floor.

“Kylie, let me explain,” I begged.

She just shook her head and waved her hands back and forth. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Digging in her pocket she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. When the person on the other end answered, she screamed, “How could you? I’m breaking up with you and I never want to see your f**king face ever again!”

When she hung up, she stumbled toward the stairs and tripped in her shoes. Yanking them off, she took off down the stairs, crying.

“I’ll go after her!” Rory said frantically, grabbing her purse.

“I should go,” I said, starting toward the stairs.

“No.” Jessica put her hand in front of me. “It won’t help. Let her process.”

“But . . . ,” I said weakly. I knew she was right. I was the last person Kylie wanted to see. “Oh, God.” I crumpled over, hiding my face in my hands, sobbing.

“What the hell happened?” Jessica asked, sounding stunned. “Why would you have sex with Nathan? That’s so not you. You don’t even hook up with the majority of guys you make out with, so explain to me why.”

Shaking my head, I sat down on the floor and crossed my legs, not bothering to wipe my face. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except I had severed an artery in my best friend and she hated me and would forever.

“Remember that party at the Shit Shack where Riley threw that guy’s face into the booze can?” I said, voice shaky.

Jessica frowned. “Yeah. You were hanging with that Aaron guy.”

“He ditched me. And we were super drunk, remember? You were upset, and we drank a crapload of vodka.” I fingered my bracelet, spinning it around and around. “I was really, really drunk.”

“So was I. I fell out of my shoes and puked after yelling at Riley for not wanting to have sex with me. Because you know, nothing is hotter than a drunk girl falling all over the place.” She rolled her eyes. “Did Aaron do something? He seemed like a nice guy, but you never know. I mean, if he did something and then Nathan was helping you . . .”

The words were stuck in my throat. But I forced them out. “No. He just went off with some other chick after I made out with him and then, I guess, Nathan took me home. The last thing I remember is going to the keg for another drink. And then I woke up the next day in Nathan’s bed. Everything else is just . . . nothingness.”

“I knew something happened at that party.” Jessica shook her head slowly. “God, I should have stayed. I knew I should have stayed. And the next day you didn’t answer my text until like dinnertime and it just seemed like something was wrong. Then you basically withdrew all summer.”

Miserable, I nodded. “I completely blacked out, but we obviously did . . . and I just feel so awful. I mean, why would I do that? Who the hell does that to her friend? I hate myself for that night. That’s why I quit drinking. I don’t trust myself, because I didn’t think that even shitfaced I would do that.”