Jennifer Two

TWENTY-THREE

July 1st, 2016

It's been quite an odd few weeks, I have to admit. From Rose coming back from the dead, ringing me up and trespassing into my abode, to finding out it was her kid sister all along. Now, after almost fifteen years of no contact, I sit opposite Nicole Sanchez in a small café in Rivenhaal, a city two hours north of Presley. It's crazy, to think I haven't seen her in this long. I was convinced that I would never see her again, to be honest; at one point there was no reason to. I was happily married, with a son in a beautiful city. But things, I learn, can change at the drop of a hat.

"I spent a couple of years moving around, you know," Nicole says, slowly taking a sip of her latte. "I was living in Los Angeles for two years once I finished college. I did a few modelling gigs here and there, but I got bored of it. My parents mainly got me into it at first to model their jewellery, remember?"

"Yeah, I do. You'd have a shoot over the weekend, and you'd come to school with some crazy expensive bracelet or necklace." I smile at the sudden memory flooding my thoughts. Nicole has just turned thirty-five, but she doesn't look a day over thirty. Her skin is clear and soft, with her makeup accentuating her eyes and her smile. Her long dark hair is tightly coiled, tied into a bun. I studied her when we walked into the café, seeing that her slender figure never left her. It feels as if I never left her; the familiarity is astounding.

"It was my only incentive; free shiny stuff," she laughs. "but yeah, I got tired of modelling. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do for a long time, though. I just moved out of L.A. to Atlanta. I got back in touch with an old friend nine years ago... and it was all going really well. I moved in with him, and all was good for like, three years. Then I walked out on him. Things just went... south."

"Aaah," I say, sipping on my coffee. "I guess a lot has happened, right?"

"That ain't even the half of it," she laughs. "I just left for New York and cut all ties with him." She looks down to the table. "I moved to Rivenhaal last year. Got a job in a real estate company. Everything has been so quiet, since."

"Wait," I narrow my eyes. Why didn't I notice the part where she said she got back in touch with an 'old friend'? all I know is the Rich Kids, but she could mean someone from college. Either way, the curiosity is nagging at me. "Who was he? Do I know this guy? Your ex."

Nicole rolls her eyes. "I guess I couldn't keep it a secret from you, can I? I don't know why I'm trying to."

"What do you mean?"

"Christof. Jones. Jonesy."

My jaw drops. "Jonesy? You were in a relationship with Jonesy?... Well, that was unexpected," I scoff. It seems after all these years, nothing can keep the Rich Kids apart – not even time. I wish I could say I'm completely cool with the idea that Nicole ended up with Jonesy, but for whatever reason, I'm not. Even if it didn't last.

Nicole scratches her neck, looking away. "Truth is, Bret, we were just a bunch of incestuous friends at school. We left no stone unturned with each other, did we? I got with you, Rose got with you, Rose got with Tanner, I got with Jonesy..."

"But didn't that happen after high school? You just said, you reconnected when you were in your mid-twenties."

"...It's complicated. But I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some sort of crossover during high school. You know, those four months when Rose was lying in her coma, your relationship with Sofia had grown stronger, and I couldn't help but think about those things you said a few nights before she was shot. Do you still remember?"

I swallow, looking away from her. "Yeah. I do." I never meant it literally, but I could see how telling her she was basically nothing without me would hurt, especially as at the end of the day, I had the upper hand. I wouldn't be the one waking up alone.