Angie is sprawled across her bed
still in her pajamas

“I don’t want to talk Luce,” she mutters into the pillow

I drop into her fluffy purple beanbag chair
“But I need your help.”

she looks up suspiciously “My help?”
she sits up and brushes the hair away from her face
and attempts to straighten her rumpled top

I knew that would get her attention.
I confess my secret about Ethan
and even Angie can’t hide the look of shock
as I relay the story
detached
and how I told Ben
and now things are weird and I don’t know what to do

“Wow Lucy. I had no idea. But it explains a lot.”
(Why do people keep saying that?)
she wraps her arms around her legs and frowns
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“What do I do about Ben? I keep pushing him away
because I’m…”

“Scared?” she finishes

I nod “More like terrified.”

“Do you think he’ll do the same thing?” she asks

“Not at all. But there’s a part of me that thinks
he could hurt me, if he wanted to. Isn’t that crazy?” I ask

“It’s not crazy. It’s like you’re still seeing Ethan instead
of just Ben.”

we talk for hours
like we used to
before