Truth Be Told

eighteen

SADIE'S BACK IS FACING towards them, but she's standing right in front of Drew, whose head is bent down toward hers. The image burns itself into Colin's memory, sending an unpleasant twinge in his chest.

Perry clears his throat, and Sadie breaks away. She turns to them with a bright smile on her face. "Oh, you're back."

Drew straightens, rubbing his right eye. "Did you get me some cola gummies?"

Exchanging a look with Colin, Perry clears his throat again. He looks as bewildered–if not more than–as Colin is.

"Stop rubbing, you'll make it worse." Sadie reaches out to Drew's wrist.

Colin's eyes glue themselves to where her skin is touching his.

"Okay, I'm very confused right now." Perry finally recovers. "Were you guys kissing?"

"What?" Drew and Sadie exclaim in unison.

"I mean, it definitely looked like you were. Right, Colin?"

Colin starts at the sudden mention of his name. He blinks a few times, still reeling from the surprise of it all. He realizes the three of them are waiting for a reply, so he nods, a little uncertain.

Sadie's eyes widened.

"We weren't kissing," she hisses out, her cheeks reddening. "There was something stuck in his eye and he was asking me to check it out."

Colin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Oh, dear lord." Ever so dramatic, Perry places a hand against his chest and stumbles back a few paces, as if he needed the wall for support. "I really thought you'd chosen him over me," he says this to Sadie, but he casts a surreptitious glance at Colin.

Sadie rolls her eyes. "Sorry to say this, but neither of you are my type."

"Oh, is that so?" Perry walks over to the kitchen counter, where he puts down the brown paper bag with all the snacks he'd chosen with Colin. "And what, exactly, is your type?"

"That, my friend, is none of your business," Sadie replies. And then, to Drew: "Wait here, I'll get my contact lens solution. That might help flush it out. And stop rubbing it."

Colin makes himself busy by–well–closing the door to the apartment, for one. And keeping his eyes nonchalantly trained on the floor as he walks over to the fridge, eager to have a task at hand. Sadie passes behind Colin on her way to the bathroom. He feels her presence more acutely than he should and he curses himself for it. Curses the relief he felt when Sadie had cleared things up. Curses the stupid, stupid voice in his head that's still waiting to be acknowledged.

He starts depositing a few of the bottles into the fridge as Sadie walks past again, back to Drew.

The image of her kissing–or, as she claimed, not kissing–him won't go away, and despite her explanation, his brain seems intent on remembering it as a kiss. It leaves him feeling gutted and twisted all at once.

When he's done putting away the beer, he shuts the fridge close and straightens, crumpling the brown, slightly damp paper bag in his hands. He turns around to survey the room, looking for the waste bin. Instead, he finds himself staring, once again, at Drew and Sadie.

Drew is now seated at one of the chairs, his head tilted back as Sadie squeezes some liquid into his eye. Her left hand is on his chin, as if to keep his head steady. Now that Colin has gotten a better look at Drew's face, he realizes just how red the guy's eye is.

"Don't look so worried." Perry whispers next to him. "He's not her type, remember?"

"Shut up."

"Shall I put something in your eye too?"