Free Asking for More by Lilah Pace Page B

placing a twelve-pack of ginger ale in their cart; Shay has the baby in a tie-dyed sling. They both look happy and healthy. Like they’re just fine.
    So what the hell?
    My first instinct is to head to another aisle. When I glance up at Jonah, though, he gives me a look that’s practically a dare. Am I going to run from another confrontation, or am I going to deal with it?
    â€œHey, guys!” I call. They turn toward me, faces so guilty I might as well have caught them lifting bars of gold from Fort Knox. Yeah, something’s going on.
    But Shay comes forward with a smile on her face. “Vivienne! Jonah! You’re back from Belize, then?” Even though she’s blushing, I can tell she’s genuinely glad to see me. She’s dyed a few purple streaks into her hair, and is wearing a pale cotton bell-sleeved dress that looks like it’s from the 1970s—no doubt another of her thrift-store finds.
    â€œJust off the plane,” I say. “Jet-lagged but good.”
    â€œAnd your sister’s all right, Jonah?” Shay looks up at him, and I remember all over again that they know each other through her work in the earth sciences department; it’s not like they’re close—not even near it—but their relationship doesn’t totally revolve around me.
    â€œShaken up, but okay.” Jonah looks down at Nicolas, who is fast asleep, his tiny fists balled under his chin. He holds out his hand as if to touch the baby, but doesn’t quite. He has so much tenderness inside him, just waiting.
    I’m touched by this, but distracted, too, because Arturo is still standing by the freakin’ 7 Up, mouth shut, not even looking directly at me. The thought that he might be angry with me winds me up so much inside that I almost feel sick.
    Even though I don’t want to talk about this, letting it fester in silence would be even worse. So I say, more quietly, “Hey, Arturo.”
    â€œHey.” He’s staring down at the soda like it’s super-fascinating all of a sudden. Shay’s obviously trying to think of something else to say to distract me from Arturo’s standoffishness.
    Just do it
. I take a deep breath. “Have I done something wrong?”
    That does it. Arturo turns to me, but the expression on his face isn’t hurt or resentment. It’s bewilderment. “What?”
    â€œYou guys have been dodging me for more than a month now. After years of being inseparable—kind of hard to miss the change.” Jonah’s broad hand rests on the small of my back. This is a battle I have to fight on my own, but his touch reminds me that he’s here for me when it’s over. I continue, “I don’t know what I did. Seriously, no clue. But if you’ll just tell me, we can talk through—”
    â€œWait.” Arturo takes one step toward me. “You think
we’re
mad at
you
?”
    â€œYou’re the ones who never want to get together.” I look from him to Shay, uncomprehending. “What’s going on?”
    â€œOh, Vivienne, no!” Shay puts her hands on my shoulders. “We never wanted you to think that, not for a minute—”
    â€œIt’s my fault.” Arturo says heavily. “If it hadn’t been for me, Mack would never have met any of you.”
    This is about
Mack
?
    Arturo braces his hand against one of the shelves, slumping as if he’s exhausted. “He got assigned to me as a roommate at random, but I kept the guy around, you know? Thought he was—not a friend, maybe, but a pal. We weren’t close, but I invited him over. Had him come to parties at my place or at Carmen’s. He targeted some of the women that way, including you—Jesus, Vivienne, that guy could’ve killed you, and it would’ve been my fault.”
    â€œWhoa. Stop right there.” I step past Shay, though she remains close to me. “It wouldn’t have been your fault.