“Hey!” Paul said. “No one is worse than us!” Then, “Wait.”
I laughed and Darren squeezed my shoulder before letting me go.
I followed Matty into the kitchen. She was at the fridge, pulling out whipped cream and setting it on the counter.
I began to unwrap the pies when she said, “You guys look happy together.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Maybe.”
But she knew me too well to allow my bullshit. “You’re allowed to be.”
I looked up at her. “I think I’m starting to see that.”
“Good,” she said. “Can you get the knife out of the—whose phone is that? Can you move it?”
There was a cell phone on the counter. It was Darren’s. He’d forgotten it when he’d come to save me from his mother’s smallpox love. I picked it up, meaning to pocket it until we went back out into the living room.
It vibrated in my hand. The screen lit up.
1 New Text Message, it said.
I didn’t expect to see the name it’d come from, however.
Caleb.
I stopped.
It was wrong. It was wrong to look through someone else’s phone. It was wrong to invade someone else’s privacy. There was a perfectly logical reason why Darren would have Caleb’s phone number. Why they would be texting back and forth. Why they would be talking to each other at all.
And I trusted him.
Right?
I swiped the screen.
The message history pulled up.
It was rather short.
And Darren initiated it.
Darren: When can you meet up?
Caleb: It’ll have to be after the holiday. Family coming to town
Darren: That’s fine. Just make sure no one knows
Caleb: So secretive. I like it!
Then, from tonight:
Caleb: Family is staying a few days longer. Can’t meet yet
Darren: That’s fine. Just let me know when. I’ll make time for this
Caleb: And what are you going to tell your boyfriend?
Darren: Nothing. He doesn’t need to know. This is between you and me