‘But people have.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘They do do that. Sometimes.’
I didn’t say anything, torn between reassuring her that I wasn’t about to desert her and pointing out that she’d acted like a bitch.
‘I know I’m hard work,’ Suzanne said softly.
‘You are hard work,’ I agreed, rolling my eyes. ‘I never thought I’d have a friend who’d wake me up in the middle of the night and take me for a midnight Brighton stroll.’
‘Don’t forget the cookies.’ Suzanne nudged me with her elbow. ‘Bonus, right?’
‘Yeah, you can have that one. Definite bonus.’ I took another cookie. ‘I get that you’re sorry, and I’m glad you came to say sorry, even if you did it in a kind of crazy way. But I still don’t really get why you said it.’
She was quiet for a while. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘I’d never say anything like that to you.’
‘I know you wouldn’t.’
‘And neither would Rosie.’
At this she laughed. ‘Oh, Rosie can get her claws out with the best of them. She’s different at school than she is with you, you know.’
Wasn’t this what I’d been afraid of the whole time? Discovering that the Rosie I knew and loved had the capacity to be a stranger to me? And that Suzanne, seeing both versions of her, would in the end know her better than I did?
‘Anyway, will you forgive me?’ Suzanne fixed me with her most beseeching look. ‘If I promise to try my best not to take my fucked-up-life’s frustrations out on you?’
What else could I say? She’d brought me cookies and waited in my garden in the freezing cold just to apologize to me. She was crazy, and she was unpredictable, but she was also generous and open-hearted and like no friend I’d ever had before. ‘I forgive you,’ I said magnanimously. I nudged her back with my elbow. ‘Hey. Maybe some of your Suze-ness will rub off on me, make me more exciting.’
‘You don’t need to be more exciting,’ Suzanne said. ‘People trust you. That’s worth way more. I’m the troublemaker, right?’ She made a face. ‘That’s not a good thing to be.’
‘I don’t think you are. You’re fun. You make things fun. I’d like to be like that,’ I said cautiously, wondering as I spoke if I was revealing too much. ‘You know, just a little more.’
She smiled with one corner of her mouth. ‘Ah. Like, something significant?’
For a moment I thought she’d read my mind, then laughed, realizing Rosie had mentioned my significant-life-event theory several months earlier. ‘Yeah, exactly.’
‘Well –’ Suzanne broke off a piece of cookie and bit into it – ‘I’ll do my best.’
We ate the rest of the cookies and then took the long route back to my house, tripling the time it would normally take to make the journey. She told me a little more about Dylan, but still only the barest details. He was sixteen. He smoked. He was a good kisser. Yes, Rosie liked him too, but not enough for it to be a big deal.
‘So am I going to meet him?’ I asked.
She hesitated, moving her hand lightly along the stone wall we were walking past. ‘I don’t think I want you to.’
‘Why not?’ I asked, surprised and a little hurt.
‘Because you probably won’t like him, and then you might think less of me.’ She glanced at me quickly, a flash of vulnerability across her features. ‘Besides, it’s not like he’s important or anything.’
I tried to think of a way to tell her that there probably wasn’t anything she could do that would make me think less of her, but I couldn’t think of a way that wouldn’t sound like I was trying to tell her I loved her.
‘What do you mean, not important?’ I asked instead.
She shrugged. ‘He’s just some idiot guy. I mean, really. He’s just a guy.’
Then why are you sleeping with him? I wanted to ask.
And then, because there was nothing else I could say, and because she’d told me I could say anything to her, I said it out loud.
‘Because . . .’ The word started off confident, but then she trailed off. She looked unsure of herself, a rare thing. ‘Because he can be so sweet to me. And, sometimes, the way he looks at me – he looks at me like I’m worth looking at.’
‘Your view of yourself is completely fucked up,’ I said bluntly, surprising myself.
She looked surprised too. ‘Fucked up?’
‘Yeah.’ I decided to go with it. We’d almost reached my driveway. ‘You’re so wrong. It’s so ridiculous that you could think for even a second that you’re not working looking at. I mean, God, have you seen yourself?’
Suzanne said nothing. She looked away from me, chewing on her bottom lip, her fingers clutching the outer rims of her sleeves. I was just starting to wonder if I’d overstepped the mark when she turned back to me, a bright smile on her face. ‘I’m really, really glad you don’t hate me.’ She reached over and gave me a sudden hug, squeezing tightly for just a second and then letting go. Before I could say anything, she stepped back, as if to start walking away. ‘I’ll message you tomorrow?’