23
I was reeling from everything that had happened. Somehow, I ended up in a bathroom with Tiffany. She pressed cool washcloths to my face. For what, I wasn’t sure, but she was being nice. I frowned as she patted my forehead. “Why are you being nice to me?” Then I remembered she’d been crying out there. Why the tears? Did Tiffany Chatsworth actually have a heart? This wasn’t foreseeable.
Her lips pressed together as she drew the washcloth down the side of my face and wet it again. “Don’t get all worked up about it. This doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends. I just,” she frowned and lifted a shoulder, “I dunno. I guess I can relate, in some way. I suppose.”
“You can relate to being dumped by your parents?”
She took the washcloth to my face again. “You’ve never asked Hannah about our p
