Chapter Eleven

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Two days had passed and there was still no word from George. And in those two days, Richard was over for dinner. Luckily Charlotte was more than happy to join us, and even diverted Richard's dull conversation a bit. She wasn't my best friend for nothing, after all.

Charlotte picked me up for lunch in her Toyota that next week so we could chat about happy things, distracting me from the fact that I had been stood up. Although I severely doubted that it had anything to do with me and more to do with Darcy, a little reassurance never hurt anyone.

"Of course it was because of Darcy," Charlotte assured me. "The guy did kick George out to the streets." The stereo was up, but we only had to raise our voices a little to be heard. It was out of habit. Whenever I was in Charlotte's truck, the stereo had to be on at all times.

"Then how come I still haven't heard from him?" I asked her. That was the real question.

"He probably needs some time to recover." Charlotte told me. "Darcy did ruin his life, after all. He might've thought he was strong enough to handle it, but maybe he wasn't." I still wasn't quite convinced that that was the truth. "I don't think it had anything to do with you. It's all Darcy."

"I still hate that guy." I said more to myself. "But after the string of guys I've dated, you never know who's real and who's not."

"Trevor was probably the worst one." Charlotte laughed. "He actually still expected to go to the Maroon 5 concert with you after he cheated on you." She laughed harder, and I couldn't help but laugh too.

"Hey, but nobody has a worse track record than you." I told her. She shouted different over the stereo from her truck when I said, "Carlos Gonzales. You even knew beforehand that after he gets in a girl's pants he breaks up with them!"

"Every girl goes through a phase where they think they can change someone." Charlotte said simply.

"At least you were the one girl who didn't sleep with him." She was quiet for a while, and I didn't notice it at first. But when I looked over at her, she was gripping the wheel so tight her fists were white. No, I thought to myself. She couldn't have.

Charlotte caught me staring, so she said, "It was only once." My mouth opened in shock. I turned the stereo off. I only ever turned it off once, when my mom had called to tell me my uncle had a heart attack. It meant that we had to be serious.

"But you told me you didn't." I told her. "We're best friends. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," She said, waving me off. I continued to look at her expectantly. "Because I didn't want to be judged by you, so I didn't tell you about it."

"What makes you think I would've judged you?"

"Come on, Lizzie." She said. "You would've said you told me so, and lecture me about virtue and waiting for the right guy before having sex. And then you would've told me to stop 'settling'."

"That's hardly judging."

"You don't have to say anything to judge someone. That's the part you keep to yourself. But your looks give it away."

"What do you mean my 'looks'?"

"The look you gave Darcy the moment you saw him." Charlotte impersonated my look by narrowing her eyes and twitching her right one. "The look you give Lydia when scolding her about underage drinking." She then gave me a stern look with a tight-lipped frown. "The look you give me when I strike out with a guy." She gave me a look of pity, mouth upturned in a concerned frown.

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