Page 107 of Hate Mail

She leans forward on the table, resting her chin in her hands. “How long did you write to Andy?” she asks. “Most of the kids I knew only kept up with it for a couple of months.”

“I’m pretty sure the last letters we wrote to each other were about what we hoped to get for Christmas that year.” He looks at me and adds, “You were the last one in the class to get a letter, which was funny because you didn’t want to write them at all in the beginning.” Addressing Naomi again, he says, “This guy kept the letters a secret until eighth grade when he showed me that one about the hangnail.”

“No wonder you’re so fixated on that one. It’s not even the worst one,” Anne says.

“I can’t get a hangnail without thinking about that letter,” Ben says. “Does that mean I’m traumatized? I feel like I might be traumatized.”

“I’m curious about Andy Nicoletti,” Anne says. She steals a glance at me before turning to Naomi. “How long did you two date?”

“A couple of years. We broke up right before college.”

“Was he cute?”

Naomi leans back in her seat again and releases a sigh like this is bringing back good memories. I know that they’re only talking about Andy to make me jealous, but I can’t help but feel annoyed at the thought of Naomi swooning over some other guy.

“He wasverycute,” she says.

“Ugh. He’s probably the one that got away,” Anne says. “We should track him down next.”

“Let me know if you do,” Ben says. “Maybe I can send him a death threat.”

The girls both giggle.

“I’d like to send him one,” I say before I can stop myself.

“Whoa, guys,” Anne says. “That took a turn.”

“There won’t be any death threats,” Naomi says. “We’re not tracking him down.”

“You’re no fun,” Anne complains. “Is it because he was bad in bed?”

As soon as Anne says it, my face flushes. I thought that Naomi had only said that out of anger, but if she told Anne… I need to get out of here. I stand up before anyone can respond.

“There’s a Spanish diner down the street,” I say to Ben. “The food is better there. Let’s go.”

ChapterThirty-Four

THE EXHUMATION OF NAOMI LIGHT

Naomi

“Did you really have to say that?” I ask Anne.

“Say what? The bad in bed comment?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I don’t get you. I thought you were mad at him.”

“I am, but now he probably thinks I told you about our sex life.”

She frowns. “So, it’s okay for you to be mad at him, but you don’t want him mad at you?”

“He’s already mad at me. Couldn’t you tell? Every time he had something to say to me, he said it to Ben as if I wasn’t sitting right next to him.”

“It was a little hard to get a read on him,” Anne admits. “One moment, he was looking at you with those pretty puppy dog eyes, and the next he was glaring at you like he wanted to make good on his death threat.”

“I think it’s because I told him that he’s bad in bed. And you just reminded him of that. Am I the asshole in this situation?”

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