A Tangled Web We Weave (Completed)

42. Spill the Beans

Sabrina

I walked into the little coffee shop I'd never been to and looked for where she was sitting. The walls were covered in books and abstract works of art. From a plaque underneath one of the canvasses, they were donated by a local artist. Wiping the sweat from my hands on my jeans, I thanked the barista and scanned the faces until I found Andy. Waving, I walked over.

She smiled faintly, but didn't move.

I slid into the booth across from her. "Hi. So what's so important that we had to talk in person?"

She gritted her teeth. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For inserting yourself into a relationship that was none of your business or trying to convince Cal I'm Satan?"

She winced. "Both." She took a sip of the coffee in front of her, which used to be mine, but as far as I was concerned, it was tainted. "It wasn't fair to you or Cal to try and come between you guys and I'm sorry if I caused any problems."

"If?" 

"That I caused any problems."

I nodded, smiling for the first time. "Thank you. I accept your apology."

Andy shuffled her feet nervously across from me. "I guess I need to apologize to Israel as well."

I scoffed. "You probably should've  done that first."

Her head dropped a few degrees. "I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lit into you guys like that."

Pleased internally that she'd brought it up so I didn't have to, I leaned forward a little bit. "Actually, why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"Go after me and Israel. He's never done anything to you."

She opened and closed her mouth a couple times. "I hated you."

I blanched. "Huh?"

She laughed, incredulous. "Are you that stupid?"

"Excuse me?"

"You tortured me throughout middle school. Don't you remember getting the entire grade to call me Flat St-Andy? I had boys trying to pull my shirt up just so they could see the 'mosquito bites'. You made 8th grade hell for me. Going into freshman year, I was so convinced that it would be more of the same that anxiety has become my constant shadow." She sat back and glared. "And even then, you didn't apologize, didn't try to make amends, didn't even seem to remember me."

Now I was the one looking like a fish, my jaw almost on a teeter-totter of its own. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember any of it?"

I sighed. "Ok, I do remember telling the kid from my Reading class that you looked like Flat St-Andy, but other than that, I didn't do anything."

She coughed slightly. "You also stole my gym clothes and didn't give them back until the end of the year. I almost had to retake it because I couldn't tell my mom or Coach K about the missing clothes."

I almost laughed, but then remembered this was painful for her. "I'm so sorry. I wish you would've said something."

She shrugged. "I thought I was over it." She laughed. "Obviously not."

"No, what I did was unacceptable. I understand now." I rubbed a hand against my head. "I'll make it up to you."

She stood, dropping a twenty on the table. "You can't. But I hope we can move on now as at least indifferent acquaintances. Coffee's on me. Have a good one, Sabrina." And with that, she grabbed her sweater from the back of her chair and whipped out the door.

After admiring that we hadn't pulled each others hair out, I sat there, frozen. How many people absolutely hated me? Or the person I used to be? Sighing, I pulled out my phone and called the one person who'd understand.

I parked my car, slammed the door, and ran up the steps, pushing the doorbell button.

The door opened slowly and Israel smiled. "I wondered how long it'd be until you came crawling back."

With a laugh, I launched myself into his arms. Burrowing my face into his neck, it felt like I finally relaxed. "I missed you. I don't even care if you were with Elena."

He chuckled. "Good, cuz I was. Bringing her father a bottle of tequila from my father. Family friends and all that."

I pushed myself away from him. "Why didn't you say that when Andy and Cal were there?"

"Something about the women in the room not letting me get a word in edgewise," he speared me with a look.

I pursed my lips, pretending to pout. "Rude."

He hugged me closer. "You love it."

Nodding and letting him pull into the house, I kicked off my shoes and smiled at his father. "Hello, Mr. Lewis."

He didn't even look up from his phone, just kept scrolling as if my words had been from a sound from a disobedient animal.

Rearing a little at the slight, I went to Israel's room, using every swear word I knew under my breath and trying to ignore the argument behind me. But I did leave the door open (what, I wanted to know what was going on?).

"I told you not to bring her here anymore. I thought there had been a fight."

"Oh, c'mon, Dad. You and Mom got into enough scuffles to know that a fight comes in every relationship."

"Scuffles?" Mr. Lewis roared and there was the sound of something wooden breaking.

I leapt off his bed, ready to beat his father into a pulp despite weighing probably as much as one of his biceps. 

Israel's laugh rang through the halls. "That's your word not mine. Please don't break the furniture when confronted with your own actions. Thank you."

He bounded into the room, smiling bigger than I'd ever seen. "I hate that guy. What a dick."

Crinkling my brow, I reached for his hand. "Don't hate him, he's trying his-" Seeing his dark look, I stopped. "He's trying to antagonize you."

He kissed my cheek. "That's better.  'Atta girl."