Damn. There it was. Juliette and I cringed. I felt the sting of that one like Rose had slapped me personally.
Niamh’s face reddened, and I wasn’t sure if she was going to cry. I got ready to rise up to hug her, or touch her arm, or shove Rose off her chair, I didn’t know. Then Niamh stood. “Just because you’re so insecure with yourself that you need to hook up with anything that moves for your validation, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me. There are more important things in life than guys, okay, Rose? And if you think you’re better than me because you can strut around in size-two jeans and make out with Renee for a group of immature guys to give them all blue balls over a faux-lesbian fantasy, then please. Don’t. It’s trashy, and me and Juliette are embarrassed for you.”
With that,
