By her twentieth birthday, there are a few things Valarie Ricci knows for certain.
She knows that her waitressing job barely covers the costs of living out of a beat up old van. She knows she's stuck in the dead end hometown her high school friends...
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Once behind the closed door of Valarie's room, an awkward tension ballooned between them that she hadn't experienced since that first day in class. She wanted Alice to speak first, and, when she didn't, the silence lingered on. Valarie looked around the room, wishing she'd had the foresight to clean up. Clothing was draped everywhere. Used mugs and glasses littered every flat surface from her desk to nightstand to window sill. Her bed wasn't made, even though she mainly slept on the living room couch to stay closer to Nonno.
Valarie scratched her head. "Sorry about the mess. And my Mom."
"Hmm?" Alice blinked, like she'd been somewhere else entirely. "Oh. I haven't seen your room before."
"What do you think?"
Alice turned her head left and right. "That tracks."
"What tracks?"
She shrugged, a secretive smile coming to her face. "You. It all just tracks."
"I don't know what that means."
Alice wandered further into the room, peeking through the window that faced the Kent house. "I wanted to talk to you."
Valarie swallowed. "Um, me too."
She twisted away from the window and leaned back against the sill as she faced Valarie. Her hands came together in her lap, nails digging in. "Really, I wanted to apologise for the other night."
"Oh." She took a step forward. "You don't need–"
"No, I do need to," Alice said, looking up at her. "I lied to you. I didn't even think about it, and–and I hate that. I keep replaying what happened over and over in my head, and it was just such a stupid thing to do ."
Blind panic seized Valarie. "Oh." Alice thought the kiss was a stupid mistake. Rachel had been wrong about how Alice felt. They'd both been wrong. Alice didn't want her, and Valarie, as usual, had made a complete idiot of herself. That's what this conversation was: Alice trying to let her down easy. Oh God–and Alice still sat through that entire conversation with Mom. She probably felt like Valarie was holding her hostage. Did she even want to be friends anymore? The thought sent a lance of pain straight through Valarie. How much of this had she ruined? How could she fix it?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"I don't know what Grace has told you," Alice continued, unaware of her internal meltdown. "And-And I understand if you want me to back off, which I will. If that's what you want. But I don't want to lie to you. I'm tired of lying."
Valarie struggled to hear Alice over the noise in her own head. "Wait, what? What did Grace tell me? I haven't really spoken to her."
Alice tilted her head. "Oh." Her nails raked across her skin. "I just thought–Nevermind."
"What would she have told me?"
She took a deep, steadying breath. "Um, that's kinda what I need to tell you. I figure not being open is basically the same thing as lying, and, fuck, Valarie, I really wanna be open with you."
