Page 67 of Plot Twist
“Poppy, this just kind of happened.” Sophie’s hands gestured between herself and Dash. “We didn’t plan for this.”
“You’re with my best friend, and you’re with my brother?” She pointed between them. “And neither of you thought to tell me? How long has this been going on?”
Dash was about to open his mouth to say something, but Poppy continued, “What, you thought I just wouldn’t find out?”
“We didn’t do this to hurt you,” Dash added. “It’s not Sophie’s fault. I started—”
But Poppy wheeled toward him with a raised and accusatory finger. “Do you realize how fucked up this is that you were both keeping the fact that you’re...” Poppy seemed to dry heave but then course-corrected.
“I know this looks bad,” Dash began to say, but Poppy stopped him with her hand.
“Just so you know, I stole ginger from your garden the last time I was here and didn’t tell you. I added it to the bone broth because I felt guilty. So I hope you enjoy that super-healing, yummy broth, because it’s the last time I’ll be making it for you!”
She turned to Sophie and shook her head. “And you. I’ve always given you free samples from the spa when your skin is looking sad. You don’t deserve them!”
Then she stormed toward the front door and brushed past Dash’s shoulder with such force that he stumbled backward. She slammed the door shut behind her.
“I should go after her.” Sophie made for the door.
“She needs time, Soph.”
“Poppy’s my best friend!” Sophie gestured toward the door. “First I destroy my relationship with Nina, and now Poppy. I can’t believe I did this to her. I’m a bad person.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Dash wrapped her in a hug. She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around him, and he squeezed her tight. He couldn’t say the words that immediately came to mind—that he’d never felt as close to someone as he did to her. And that, even though he wasn’t ready, he saw a future for them.
“I have to go.” Sophie loosened herself from his grip and quickly collected her clothes from the floor.
“You don’t have to.” He followed her, like she was the sun, and he was the earth helplessly pulled to her. “We can talk about this.”
“I can’t talk right now, Dash. I—” she shook her head “—I have been spiraling, like, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me, and attempting to make things work with Carla. And now I just totally messed up with Poppy. I need to clear my head. I’m sorry.” She finally looked up, all her clothes bundled in her hands, still wearing his shirt and barefoot. She was upset, he knew that, but what he didn’t know was how to fix it. All he could do was listen to what she needed, and she’d said that was space.
“Okay.” His fingers nervously tapped at his sides, as she walked past him and toward the door. Before she left, he grabbed her elbow and placed a kiss on her forehead. Something to let her know he was there and ready for her, whenever she was. But she didn’t reciprocate the gesture. Instead, she turned and walked out without so much as looking back.
29
SOPHIE
Sophie:can we talk?
Sophie:I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you
Sophie:please just talk to me
Sophie:I totally GET why you’re mad, and I will give you space, but please let me explain
Poppy:You’ve been secretly seeing my brother and didn’t plan to tell me. There’s nothing to explain
Sophie had read and reread Poppy’s text and, well, she was right. Sophie had intentionally kept her relationship with Dash a secret from her best friend. There were multiple moments where she could’ve come clean and worked this out, but she’d actively chosen not to.
And the only conclusion Sophie could come to was that she was deeply selfish, like, probably one-of-the-worst-humans-on-the-planet-level selfish.
“So you don’t think I should respond?” Sophie asked.
Nina, who was shoving a tortilla chip loaded with guacamole into her mouth, turned to look at her. “I know I asked you to stop being a flake, but no—I think you should wait, like I told you the last few times you asked.”
Sophie grabbed a chip and bit it more aggressively than necessary. They sat at the counter of Pink Metal, a restaurant that was impossible to get a table at but was owned by Nina’s best friend, Jasmine. The restaurant was, as the name described, decked out in splashes of pink and chrome, giving the interior an edge while the food served was a warm and cozy contrast. Jasmine stood behind the counter and fixed all three of them margaritas.
“I agree with Nina. There’s nothing more annoying than when you need space but someone won’t give it to you.” Jasmine slid a pink margarita across the counter, the rim dusted with bright pink sugar. “Don’t be that person.”
