Under Her Skin

Chapter 23

Police Officer: How did Selena get away with the twisted narrative?

Me: She's Selena.

Police Officer: So what happened after?

Me: Everybody turned their back on Sunny. You know how people gossip.

Police Officer: And Sunny?

Me: She was at the point where she was going to do something about it.

***

Sunny: Can we talk?

Tate: Why?

Sunny: Just, please.

Tate: Fine.

Sunny: Afterschool at your place?

Tate: Sure.

***

Sunny found her alone. Tate's black dress, simple to austerity, suggested her tasteful condition. Sunny was astonished that she could dress with such elegance in a time of disarray.

"You said you wanted to talk," she said, turning around.

"Do you believe me?" Sunny's voice trembled a little as if feeling brute even to hesitate.

"What?"

"I didn't cheat."

"Oh, honey. Of course," said Tate, handing Sunny a vape. Sunny denied.

"What?"

"Selena doesn't do homework. Everybody knows that."

"Then why are you on her side."

"We're Kitties, we support each other."

"What?"

"You knew that when you joined." Sunny placed her hair into her palms and started pacing around the room.

"What am I going to do," Sunny repeated. "What am I going to do."

"Stop," said Tate. Sunny looked up.

"What."

"Do you want to be a Kitty or not."

"Of course."

"Then apologize."

"What? To Selena?"

"Yeah."

"She should be the one apologizing to me!"

"You don't get it, do you."

"What do you mean?"

"Kitties fake it till they make it. You either apologize and make it, or you don't and die trying." Tate was solid. There was about her an air of well-satisfied prosperity. Sunny, on the other hand, towards the end of the conversation, held a look of fatigue over her naked face. She was finding herself heavy, uncomfortably forced to neighborly accept. The conversation had come to an end. Time passed. Tate went on, talking somewhat at random, now of the recent past, then of her first meeting with her boyfriend. Sunny began to form a fairly coherent picture of their lives when she spun the conversation around and asked Sunny, "You guys doing it?"

"What?" Tate had a pleasant gift for keeping the conversation tied to sex.

"Don't play stupid. I've seen you guys sneaking around."

"Nah," Sunny said, her voice rather sallow. "Well, not yet."

"Omigod!!! You like him?" Sunny's eyes turned light brown as the wavering image of Josh rushed into her mind. His charming example of the style, his sensual personality, his talent captured within his camera. She thought about confessing her love for him right then and there but then realized Tate was talking about Cole.