Page 13 of Roommate's Guide to Love

Did she have it? Maybe.

Will I ask her about it until the day she dies? Fuck yes.

“Grow up Quinn. Let me guess. Here with your sisters?”

“Yes. And let me guess. Here to see which man here you haven’t fucked?”

She rolls her eyes before walking away.

“Bye, Em! Always a pleasure!”

I laugh under my breath as I finally make my way to our table.

“What was that?” Maeve asks.

“Just Emily being Emily,” I say as I pass the drinks around.

“That’s not what I meant.” She tilts her head back to the bar. “You and Porter. Was he telling you a secret or something?”

Shit, shit, shit… What was he thinking? What wasIthinking for being so obvious?

Okay, Quinn. Think fast. Keep your face right. Don’t blow this.

“Oh, nothing,” I say. “He wondered why I was home. Told him. That was it.”

Maeve’s face clearly says she doesn’t believe me.

“Why are you home?”

This question comes from Stella, who I’m going to guess has put on her bedazzled FBI hat and has already poked holes in my story.

“I told you. Expiring flight miles and a long weekend.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re lying,” she says. “I checked your school calendar, and it isn’t a long weekend. Plus, even if it was, when have you ever come home for a trip this short just because?”

I start to defend myself when Stella holds up a finger, clearly not done presenting her case.

“Whatever you’re going to say, save it. It didn’t sit right when you said you were coming home, so I started lurking around social media. I stumbled onto a post from a group of moms claiming that a teacher who recently was fired should never be hired again in any school district ever because not only did she repeatedly use the f-word against them and told them that they had botched plastic surgery done, but she also refused to listen to parents concerns about teaching books about murder. And if that doesn’t sound like Quinn Banks, I don’t know what does.”

I don’t try and defend myself, but simply look at Ainsley, the only sister who may be able cushion this blow. “Do you have anything to bring to the interrogation table?”

Ainsley Banks is the quiet one of the sisters. A little shy. I’m not sure if she’s an actual empath, but this girl can feel one’s emotions better than anyone I’ve ever met. So when she takes my hand and gives me that Ainsley look, I know I’m about to spill my guts.

“Nothing specific. But I’m worried. We all are. When I picked you up from the airport, you barely said two words on the drive down here, and that’s not the Quinn I know.”

Who knew me not saying something would be my giveaway?

“I hate that you all know me so well,” I say, gripping onto my beer bottle with each hand.

“Did you really get fired?”

I shake my head, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. “I beat them to the punch. Quit before it could happen. What you read on Facebook? Those were my parting words to the moms of my school district who made my life a living hell this year.”

I bring my beer to my lips when I look over to Maeve. “Thoughts, big sister?”

She shakes her head. “I have a lot, but I’m going to withhold them until I hear the story. Because I’m guessing there’s a story.”

“Oh, there is,” I say, turning to signal for my favorite bartender to bring us a round of shots. “Hold on to your butts. You won’t believe anything that I’m about to tell you.”

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