Page 64 of Dice & Dekes

His point is made, but I’m not entirely convinced. I still have one question: “So where was he Saturday morning?”

From the expression on my brother’s face, I know that he knows. He sits back and pretends to zip and lock his lips. “Just give him a chance to tell you. But I can guarantee it involves no other women. I’ve said enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run. It’s a game night, and I have places to be. You’re coming, right?”

I slurp my now-tepid coffee confection. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Knight acts like he’s about to get up but pauses with both hands braced on the table. “Why do you look so sad? I thought you’d feel better.”

“I thought punishing him would make me feel better.” I grip my cup so hard my fingers ache. “But it never did. It just made me harder. Meaner. And all this time, I blamed him for something he didn’t even do.”

I swirl my straw in the melted ice, watching it spin like the mess in my head. I should feel lighter now that I know the truth, but instead I feel… hollow. Because it wasn’t just that I hurt him. It’s that I wanted to. I wanted him to feel the way I did—rejected, insecure, unsure.

What does it say about me that I got what I wanted, and I still feel like shit?

“I have a feeling I’m going to have to eat a lot of crow for this.” Now that I know about ‘Nona,’ my tantrum at our double date seems even more childish and petty than it did before. Sofia probably hates me. Hell, I kind of hate myself.

Knight rises, brushing crumbs off his hoodie. “Viktor won’t punish you like that.”

I scoff, still staring at the pastries like they personally betrayed me.

“I’m serious,” Knight says. “He never has. Not once. Even when you iced him out. Even when you painted him as the villain and acted accordingly. You know why?”

I don’t answer.

“Because he knows he’s not blameless either. You’re mad at him for letting you believe a lie. But he’s been mad at himself for creating it. He had a hundred chances to tell you the truth, and he didn’t. Not because he wanted to hurt you, but because he hated what it would reveal about him. That he was a coward back then. That he let his pride win. And honestly?” Knight shrugs. “You deserved the truth. But so did he. And neither of you got it.”

The lump in my throat is back, thick and hot.

“That’s why he won’t punish you,” Knight says gently. “He’s not looking to make you pay. He’s just hoping you’ll stay.”

He pats the top of my head and ruffles my hair before leaving me alone with my new knowledge, and my shame, with only three untouched, butter-heavy pastries to ease my suffering.

As soon as the door closes behind Knight, I pull out my phone and dial the one person who’s seen all my worst moments and still answers anyway.

“Tell me you didn’t murder him,” Baylor says by way of greeting. “Orange is not in your color palette.”

“I didn’t.” I sniff. “But I might have emotionally waterboarded him for a decade.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Girl. Do I need to put on pants and come bail you out of something?”

“No, but I need to tell you something, and I swear to God if you laugh I will delete you from my emergency contact list.” I inhale deep, holding it until my lungs burn. “You know how I always said Viktor stood me up for some bitch named Nona?”

“Yeah,” Baylor says slowly. “The mythical Nona who was probably a pageant queen with C-cups and a nose job?”

“She didn’t exist.”

Another pause. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Knight just told me the truth. They weren’t whispering about some girl. They were whispering about a boner. It only sounded like Nona through the solid oak door I had my ear pressed against.”

“A what now?”

“A boner. Apparently, Viktor took a gas station dick pill to get brave enough to kiss me in the limo before the dance, and it backfired so bad he had to go to the ER.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence.

Then Baylor howls.

It’s one of those full-body, evil cackles that makes the woman at the next table glare at me. I don’t even care. I’m glaring at myself harder.

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