With a trembling hand, I drop my phone into the cupholder and finally make my escape from Knight’s Ridge.
* * *
The second I dumped my bags beside my front door, I stripped out of my dress once more en route to the bathroom.
I turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped under the spray in the hope that it would wash all my regrets and bad decisions down with it.
It didn’t.
And two hours later I’m sitting on my sofa, staring at re-runs ofFriendson the TV but not really seeing any of it as I run the events of the afternoon through my head.
My stomach is one big messy knot of anxiety, and every time my phone buzzes with an incoming message or call, it sinks even deeper that it might be Mr. Middleton telling me that he no longer wants my presence in his school, my uni tutor telling me that I’ve been kicked off my course only weeks before the end.
Or worse, the police.
I retch at that thought alone, bile burning up the back of my throat.
A knock at my front door startles me to the point I actually let out a little shriek of fright.
“Bri, it’s me. Open up,” the concerned voice of my best friend calls. “I’ve got a key and you know I’ll use it.”
“Fuck,” I hiss.
It’s not that I don’t want to see her. I do. More than anything. But it’s going to mean reliving it all out loud, and I’m not sure I have the strength to confess all my sordid sins.
“Brianna Andrews,” Jodie warns darkly as if I could ever be scared of her. “If you’ve got the deadlock on, you know I’ll just get the guys here to break it down.”
The mention of them is enough to get me moving.
And after releasing the deadlocks she accused me of hiding behind, I pull the door open and find myself instantly in the supportive embrace of my best friend.
“What did he do?” she breathes in my ear as her hug tightens.
“You don’t want to know,” I confess.
“I do, or I wouldn’t be here. I brought your favourite,” she says, releasing me and holding up a bag full of pink prosecco and chocolate.
“Well, I guess you’d better come in then,” I mutter, stepping aside and then instantly relocking the door.
“Expecting to be burgled or something?” she quips, watching my every move.
“Or something.” Right now, having a stranger rummaging around my worthless things seems a hell of a lot better than having to face Nico again.
Leaving her to it in my kitchen, I curl back up on my sofa, pulling the blanket around me as if it’s armour.
“Here you go,” Jodie says, handing over a full glass of bubbles.
Despite having an empty stomach, all that food from lunch well worked off thanks to my afternoon exercise, I down the entire glass before Jodie’s arse has even got close to the cushion.
“I’ll get the bottle, shall I?” she teases before walking back to the kitchen and refilling my glass.
The bubbles pop and fizz down my throat before settling in my stomach. The promise of the haze they can deliver means I make almost as quick work of the second glass.
“Jesus, Bri,” Jodie breathes, her eyes locked on my face, concern darkening them.
“When you hear what’s happened, you’ll understand.”
“I’m ready. Hit me with it.”