Twenty minutes and one subway transfer later, Brianna arrived at Shanelle"s townhouse. As Brianna reached for the bell, the door swung open. Shanelle, who had the place to herself for the weekend with both parents away at conferences, licked a spoonful of Nutella. She wore a long t-shirt that covered only what needed to be covered and left her bare legs glistening from the incoming light.
“You wouldn"t answer my messages.” Brianna should have apologized first, but Shanelle"s beauty made opening with a grovel impossible.
“You had nothing good enough to respond to.”
“That"s not fair. I"m here now.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Brianna tilted her head toward her shoulder and pushed her lips out in a small pout. The flame of the gas lamp protruding from the entrance"s gray brick lit her face
