Page 16

“Two days, Sloane. Two days and I’m coming for you,” he whispers.

The next thing I know I’m sinking to the floor. When I open my eyes, all I see are his black boots walking away.

The coffee at Fresco’s is particularly bad today, but that’s no great surprise. Everything here tastes bad. The bagel I'd tried to force down my throat for breakfast might as well have been made out of sawdust. There are a thousand different, but more importantly palatable coffeehouses in the greater Seattle area, but Fresco’s is a tradition for Pip and me.

We've been meeting here ever since we were poor, struggling students and their drip coffee was all we could afford. I see my best friend arrive, looking immaculate as ever. Her hair is swept back into a classic chignon and her pantsuit is perfectly creased in all the right places. I look like a tramp in my cuffed-up jeans and my long-sleeved t-shirt.

Pippa breezes through the café, grinning at Marcus the barista, who will have her regular double espresso on the table precisely sixty seconds after she sits down. She dumps her Louis Vuitton onto the bench beside me and slumps down into a seat.

"Morning, stranger." It's been a week since I've seen her; that's a lifetime for us. She gets comfy, giving me a wink. "What's so urgent it couldn't wait until after I'd finished with my twentieth slightly deranged patient later on today?”

Pippa opted for psychology instead of medicine. We graduated at the same time; she's been certified by the Board of Psychiatric Medicine for the last fourteen months. She works out of an office downtown, dealing with patients who have been sentenced with mandatory therapy in one form or another. A lot of violent offenders walk through her doors. She could easily have chosen to work with Prozac-happy, depressed housewives but she wanted more. Said it felt better to help those who really needed it.

I stare into the bottom of my empty coffee cup, suddenly doubting whether I should tell her anything that happened yesterday. But…but I think I need to. She's my best friend, but she's also always been able to see things from an unbiased point of view. That's exactly what I need right now.

"If I told you I had a patient who had an issue they needed to talk through, you'd already know I was talking about me, right?"

"Yep."

"Okay, well, I won't bother with that spiel then."

Marcus drops her coffee off. She sips at it, raising one eyebrow at me. "Would save some time, yes."

"Okay, well…” I just need to spit it out. “I had sex with a guy."

She spits her espresso back into the tiny cup. "What? Who? When?"

I cringe. This is going to be really bad. Pip’s thought I'm going to be the last virgin standing for a long time now. "It wasn't recently. It was…it was two years ago."

Her shoulders stiffen. The incredulous look she was sporting a second ago, turns into something much colder. She's pissed. I knew she would be. She puts her coffee down, staring at the tabletop. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"It wasn't…it wasn't something to sit around and dissect over a tub of ice cream, Pip. It wasn't something I was exactly proud of¸ either."

"What does that mean? My God, you weren't raped were you?"

"No, no, of course not. But…" This is the part where I either tell her the whole truth or I go for a watered-down version. I’m a complete coward in the end. She would never think badly of me for what I did but I just can't bear the shame of admitting it. I sold my virginity for information. Information that I didn't even get, which means I sold it for nothing. "I didn't know the guy. I didn't even know his name. I…I was drunk and we did it in the dark. I couldn't have even told you what he looked like until yesterday."

Pip closes her eyes and presses her fingertips into her forehead.

Please don't think I'm a slut. Please don’t think a slut.

“Sloane, jeez…” she groans.

"I know, I know."

"I don't even know where to begin with this."

"How about after the judgemental part?"

"Oh, babe. I would never, ever judge you. I'm just…I just wanted something special for you. Y’know, romance, red roses, champagne, fireworks…"

I should have known she would never judge me. I push my bagel crumbs around on the plate sitting in front of me, pouting. "Oh, there were definitely fireworks. None of the other stuff, but definitely fireworks."

She sighs and then reaches across the table, removing the plate so she can hold my hands in hers. "So this has been playing on your mind for two whole years and you didn't tell me why?"

"Because it wasn't exactly normal sex, if you get me."

Pippa looks like she doesn't understand, and then realization dawns on her face. "So…you let some guy screw you and he was into some freaky stuff?"

"Pretty much."

"And wait, you said you didn't even know what he looked like until yesterday. What happened yesterday?"

"He came into the hospital. His friend tried to kill herself."

She exhales. "I need another coffee for this." She orders one for herself and one for me, and when she comes back she has more questions prepared. "I just don't get it. How did you know it was him?"

"His voice is quite distinctive. I practically came out and asked him if he was the guy and, well, he didn't deny it."