you?â
She shakes her head. âNo. Well, it couldnât really.â
âThen why are you so mad about it?â
She spins back toward me. âDamn it, Derek. You were the one person here who at least treated me like an adult. Donât you think if I wanted to complain, Iâd do it myself?â
âYou didnât do it,â I say, stung. âYou were too busy pretending not to care.â
âSo? Thatâs my choice. You donât haveto agree, but you have to let me make my own choices.â
I stare at her. I canât think of anything to say. The thing is, sheâs right. I was feeling sorry for her. Thatâs why I did it. Not because of what Francine accused me of. Not because I wanted to clear my name. But because I was feeling sorry for her.
âIâm sorry,â I say at last. âI really am. I just...I just wanted to make one thing right. Just wanted to fix this one thing.â My voice cracks a little and I shut up, swallow hard, dig my nails into my palms.
She finally sighs. âTry fixing your own life, not mine.â The words are tough, but her voice is suddenly softer and I know sheâs not really mad anymore.
Or maybe she still is, a little, but sheâs willing to give me a break this time.
Aaliyah meets my eyes and smiles, her face relaxing. âI called him.â
âWho?â But I know who she means as soon as the word is out of my mouth. âYour fiancé? You did? What happened?â
She looks a little embarrassed, almosta little shy. âWeâre having dinner together tonight.â
âYou are?â
âYeah.â She laughs. âAnd Iâm really nervous. I think...well, I think pretending not to care might have been easier.â
âYeah.â I push Ethan out of my mind.
âDerek? He wants me to move in with him.â Her eyes are wide. Scared? I canât tell.
âWow.â Iâm happy for her, but I feel lonely all of a sudden. âIâll miss you, if you go.â
âWell, I havenât decided anything yet. Weâll talk about it over dinner.â She gives me a crooked grin. âHeâs taking me to Shallotâs.â
Shallotâs is probably the most expensive restaurant in town. Needless to say, I havenât been there. âWow. Thatâs pretty special.â
âYeah.â
Something occurs to me. âHey, Aaliyah? Iâm not supposed to be here, really, but...well, my shiftâs over and, this dinnerâs a big deal.â I look at her, not sure how sheâll take this. âCan I help you get ready?â
Aaliyah hesitates. âPaulaâs coming.â
I shrug. Pretending not to care.
She meets my eyes. âScrew Paula,â she says. âYeah. Iâd love it if youâd help me get ready.â She wheels her chair toward the bedroom, stops, turns and talks to me over her shoulder. âIf Francine finds out, youâll be out on your ass.â
I nod. âI think Iâm pretty much done with this place anyway.â
She raises one eyebrow.
âI was thinking, you know, about going back to school. Finishing grade twelve.â I look down at my hands, missing the feel of the keyboard, missing the long late hours talking online. âEthan was always bugging me to go back,â I say. My voice seems to come from a long way away.
Aaliyah picks out the same soft brown shirt I helped her into the first time we met, with a straight denim skirt and brown nylons. Clumsy as always, I manage to snag one of her nylons and put a run in it. I expect her to snap at me, but she just laughs and tells me thereâs another pair in her drawer. I blow-dry and brush her hair so that itâs straight andshining, help her put on blush and a touch of lipstick.
Of course, I donât know what Iâm doing. But when weâre done, she looks gorgeous.
She looks in the mirror. âWow. Youâre good at
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