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“You look upset?” She notes as she glances at me from over her shoulder.
Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail with a series of braids wrapping around it, and while she has a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt on, with her sparkling gold eye shadow, and fiery red lip stick she’s sporting, I’m assuming she’s planning on going out somewhere tonight.
“I'm fine. Just tired and exhausted from family drama.” I go over to the fridge and grab a bottle of juice.
Zayla knows a little about my family, but not all of the details, and I think for now, I’ll keep it to myself. It’s just too much to pile onto such a new friendship.
“You want to talk about it?” she asks as she sets the bottle of nail polish down. “I’ve got a little bit of time.”
“Maybe a bit later.” A lie, but I don’t want to sound rude.
“Okay. Well, I’m here if you ever need to talk. Seriously, I know you like to keep stuff to yourself, but I pile a lot of my baggage on you and you can totally do that to me.” She smiles.
I return it. “Thanks. I appreciate it, but really, I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
Her smile fades a bit, but she forces it to remain on her lips then returns to her toenail painting, humming underneath her breath.
She’s clearly in a good mood, but why? She was still so upset this morning over Ollie, so what’s changed over the course of the last handful of hours.
I twist the cap off the bottle of juice as I make my way over to her, and take a seat in the chair beside the sofa.
“What’s up, Zay?” I ask as she swipes the brush across her pinkie toe.
“Hmmm…” She lifts her gaze to me. “Nothing. Why?”
I assess her. “You’re happy about something.”
She bites back a smile. “Is that a crime?”
“No. But with how down you’ve been, it’s kind of weird. And while I’m really happy that you’re happy, I’m curious what brought on this sudden sense of cheeriness.”
She breathes out this dreamy sigh. “I have a date with Trystan Averysen.”
I struggle to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “Isn’t he friends with Ollie?”
She screws the cap back on the bottle of the fingernail polish. “They’re friends, but mostly because they’re in the same frat. Trystan started talking to me on Monday after this asshole made a comment about what happened at the party. He was so nice and he told me he couldn’t believe how horrible Ollie treated me.” She smiles wistfully. “He said I didn’t deserve to be treated like that and we’ve been texting back and forth since then.” She sits up straight and lowers her feet to the floor. “He asked me out tonight.”
“What about that whole thing with the bros before hoes? Isn’t he worried Ollie’s going to get upset about it?”
“He said he doesn’t care what Ollie thinks because he likes me so much.”
“He knows that after only a few days of being around her?” I question.
She frowns at me. “Are you saying I’m not that likable?”
“No, you definitely are,” I assure her, trying to backtrack. I’m not trying to be mean, but I am concerned. “It’s just a little strange that this guy starts talking to you right after that crap with Ollie went down at the party.”
She collects her bottle of fingernail polish and rises to her feet. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but not every nice thing someone does has an underlying malicious intent.”
“I know.” I can be overly suspicious at times, but a lot of times the feeling ends up being justified.
But I can be cynical at times, so I hesitate. Maybe Trystan had Zayla on her radar and was waiting for Ollie and her to break up before he asked her out. But the timing is a bit weird. Only days after Zayla caught Ollie cheating and suddenly one of his friends is asking her out.
But maybe Zayla is right. Perhaps I think every nice thing someone does has an ulterior motive.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Have fun on your date.”
She smiles. “Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes either tonight when I come home, or if it really goes well, I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She winks at me then practically skips into her room.
