“I thought you didn’t know each other. I mean, one minute you were asking who he was, and then the next thing we knew, Lucy said the two of you left together. So what happened?”
“Well, I was feeling anxious,” I looked at her. “You know . . .”
Candela nodded. Her mother suffered from panic attacks, and she knew I had started having them.
I took a deep breath. “So I went outside for some air, and Rad was there, on the back porch. We talked for a little bit, and then the fight broke out and we left.”
“God, the fight,” Candela’s face was suddenly animated. “Did you see what happened?”
“I missed most of it.”
“It was nasty. Ana’s uncle turned up a bit drunk. He walked right up to Ana’s dad and hit him. Really hard too!”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“Not that the bastard didn’t deserve it,” she added.
I remained quiet.
“You know, I can’t believe the police haven’t arrested him yet. I mean, you’re the one who saw them through the window with their clothes off and going at it, so maybe you should speak to the cops.”
My heart leapt to my throat, and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell Candela the truth—that I had made it all up and Ana’s dad was innocent. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t form. I felt panic grip me like a vice.
“Audrey, are you okay? Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Candela put her arm around me, stroking my back as I struggled to get my breathing under control. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay,” I said, between quick, ragged breaths.
She kept her hand on my back, rubbing in a slow circular motion. It took awhile before I began to feel okay again.
“I saw Ana the day before it happened, you know,” Candela said. “Just when the rumor was turning into a shit storm. I know I promised you I wouldn’t say anything to her, but I had this really strong feeling that I should. Now I wish I had.” She bit her lip and began drawing arbitrary shapes in the sand with her fingertips. “I mean, she was my friend, and I let her down. I don’t know if I can ever get past that, you know?”
“I’m so sorry, Candela.” I could feel my throat tightening up again. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not. Don’t ever say that. You had no idea that Eve was listening at the door.”
“I should never have said anything,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.
“Hey.” She let out a sigh. “Come on . . . let’s just—fuck it. Let’s not talk about Ana anymore. Okay? Tell me about Rad. How was he last night?”
“He was okay,” I said. “I think he just needed someone to talk to. Maybe someone who didn’t know Ana.”
“I get that. Really I do. Did he say anything about Ana?”
“No,” I said, with a shake of my head. “He didn’t want to talk about her.”
Candela nodded. “To be honest, I don’t blame him. It messes me up, thinking about it. I’d rather think about anything else.”
“Same. But I know it must be a million times worse for you, because you were always close to her.”
“Yeah,” said Candela. A shadow seemed to pass over her face. “We had some great times.”
We were quiet, lost in our own thoughts.
“Are you going to see Rad again?”
“I don’t know. Mum went completely feral when I got home last night.”
“You should have seen her at the reception when Lucy told her you left with Rad.” A tiny laugh escaped from her lips. “She was livid.” Candela and my mother were mortal enemies.
I smirked. “Anyway, she has forbidden me from seeing him.”
“She forbids you from seeing me,” Candela pointed out. “Yet here we are.”
“It’s kind of messy. I mean, I’m not sure Duck would be keen on the idea.”
Candela rolled her eyes. “Duck is way too possessive. You know I adore him, but the guy needs to lighten up.”
“He can be a little moody sometimes, but he’s a really good guy. Besides, I’m probably the last thing Rad needs right now.”
“Or,” said Candela, giving me a long, meaningful look, “you could be exactly what he needs.”
I arrived home late that afternoon to the smell of chicken soup wafting through the house. My mother came out of the kitchen, undoing her apron and sliding it over her head.
“Oh good, you’re home. I was going to take some chicken soup over to Duck, but you can if you want to.”
“Okay,” I said.
I followed her into the kitchen, putting my school bag down on a chair. She ruffled through the cupboards and found an old thermos. After rinsing it in the sink, she carefully spooned in the soup with a ladle and screwed it shut tight. She wiped at the sides with a cloth and then handed it to me. “Here,” she said. I tucked the thermos under my arm and set out on the short walk to Duck’s house.
Duck’s mother, Zoe, answered the door on the third knock. “Audrey!” she said, smiling brightly. “Come in.” She opened the door wider and I followed her inside.
Each time I walked through Duck’s front door, I was greeted with a picture of the two of us that Zoe had hung in the entrance of the hallway. We were thirteen, and our mothers had entered us into a local ballroom dancing competition. In the photo, Duck was in a hideous powder-blue suit, and I was wearing a strange sequined dress my mother had sewn for me. It always made me cringe.
“How is Duck feeling?” I asked.
Zoe rolled her eyes. “You know what he’s like.”
“Man flu?” It was a private joke between us.
“Exactly,” she laughed. “He’s a bit grumpy, but maybe you can cheer him up.”
“I’ll try,” I said, with a weak smile.
Duck was sitting up in his bed playing Grand Theft Auto.
“Hey,” he said, eyes glued to the screen.
“Hi.” I sat down on the edge of his bed and put the thermos on the ground. “I brought Mum’s chicken soup.”
“Oh great,” he said, his tone sarcastic. “I’ve been craving chicken-flavored water all day.”
“You get so grouchy when you’re sick,” I said, ruffling his hair.
“So what’s the story about you leaving with Ana’s boyfriend after the reception?”
“God, word travels fast around here,” I mumbled, looking away.
He paused his game and put down his controller.
“So what’s the story?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We were just talking. No big deal.”
“No big deal? You took off with some guy you’d never even met before, and it’s no big deal?”
“His girlfriend just died; I think he just wanted someone to talk to, okay?” I could feel Duck’s eyes boring into me, and I turned to meet his gaze. I could tell by his expression he had been brooding about it all day. He looked a little off-color, and there was a patch of rough stubble on his chin. Despite that, he was still as handsome as ever. His hair was dark brown and scruffy, and his eyes were a dreamy blue.
“What did you talk about?” Duck asked. He had always been jealous of me around other boys.
“Stuff, I guess. I don’t know. Things that friends usually talk about.”