We were sitting in the typical Starbuck’s, and the windows were fogging up and everything, everything smelled like coffee beans.
She took a long sip of her strawberries and creme frap. before saying anything.
“You want me to explain?” Her voice rose an octave in surprise but her eyes were dead serious. She knew what I wanted.
“Mmh,” she exhaled and drank again, “she loves you.”
“I already know that,” I lashed out impatiently.
“No, you don’t,” she replied calmly, a small smile lit upon her face. My eyebrows rose.
“Did you know that every single day and night, all she has to do is think of you and she’s instantly happy? She told me that.”
“Yah, well I guess she was telling you alot of what she wasn’t to me,” I grumbled bitterly.
Against that, Cheyenne laughed and then pointed at me with one chubby finger. “That,” she accused me, “is your own fault.”
But despite the light mood, I knew Cheyenne was right about Rose and that this was not a light situation. It was dark and messy and fucked up.