Secrets, Lies, and Summer Skies

Chapter Forty-One

"Okay, if I have to tell you to rest one more time, I'm claiming the title of the responsible friend in this relationship," Jenny declared.

I froze in place, a pile of clothes resting over my broken arm, my other outstretched as I finished hanging a dress on the rail. Slowly, I brought my arm down and hugged the garments against my chest protectively. It was the third time Jenny had caught me doing something I shouldn't. Every time she left to get a snack, a bottle of water, or headed off to use the bathroom, I dragged myself out of bed and got to work putting my room back together.

"Bed," she ordered. "Now."

As I shuffled out of the closet, Jenny gently wrestled the clothes from my arms, taking care of the cast. Her eyes narrowed pointedly until I was back where I belonged. After she flashed me a triumphant smile, she dumped the clothes in a pile on an obliging chair and dropped to the floor to open another box. It'd been weird seeing all my stuff packed away. I mean, obviously, it was just so that it didn't get covered in paint while the decorators did their work, but it just served to remind me that the task of unpacking was a futile one. In maybe a week, I'd have to pack it all up again to go back to college.

"You don't have to watch me," Jenny said. "I've been in your room enough times that I know where everything goes."

"You're kidding, right? If I don't keep an eye on you, I won't have any clothes left."

Jenny turned from her task of arranging perfumes. "Um, as if I would take anything from my best friend in the whole world while she's recovering!"

I reached down into her bag, which sat beside my bed. Jenny hadn't made any effort to hide the red skirt which sat right at the top of her things. I held it up and raised an accusatory brow. My best friend had never had much shame or modesty about her, and when she saw the garment, she simply smiled and shrugged.

"Care to explain?" I asked.

"I'm not taking it. I'm... liberating it."

I dropped the skirt back into her bag. "Fine. Keep it. Red's not really my color, anyway."

Jenny hurried back to the stack of clothes she'd dropped and rifled through them until she pulled out a dress. "Really? Okay, so what about this one?"

My heart squeezed painfully. It was the red dress I'd worn to dinner with Grayson. I hadn't even noticed it when it'd been sandwiched between all the other clothes, but to see it clutched in Jenny's eager hands as crisp and clean as it'd been when Grayson had picked it out in the store, I couldn't help but think back to the day that he'd called me his girlfriend for the first time. It was when I'd first believed that he thought of me as something more than a booty call.

That our relationship might stand a chance against all the odds.

My distress must have played across my face because Jenny realized, "I'm holding something important, right?"

"Yeah."

"Want me to put it back and pretend like I never thought about how great my boobs would look in it?"

"If you don't mind."

Jenny forced a smile and disappeared into the closet. I listened to the scrape of metal hangers as they slid onto the rail, the shuffle of heavy fabric as it fell into place, and I dug my nails into the comforter while I chased away all memories of the dress. I shouldn't have. I mean, they were happy memories. But the more I lingered on them, the more I grieved Grayson's loss. He might not have formally broken up with me, but I couldn't imagine that we were still together given all that had happened. Not to mention, he still hadn't visited. Hadn't called. Sure, I could've called him first, but I didn't know what to say. He'd been so angry that day at the hospital and I was afraid of making things worse. Dad might have told me that he'd accepted our being together, but Grayson didn't know that. For all I knew, he was trying to avoid another argument by staying away from me and the house.