The question wasn’t directed only to Bren. She glanced at all of us, clear indecision on her face. I opened my mouth. I wanted to step in, make it right, but I didn’t know the answer. I closed my mouth, sat back. Bren’s face tightened. Her hands balled into fists, resting on the table by her plate, and she looked at them. Her shoulders went rigid, but Zellman said it first.

“Tab cheated on you.”

“Zellman.” Bren frowned.

He shrugged, slumping down in his chair. One hand went into his pocket. The other reached for his beer. “What? It’s true. She overheard something and thought, ‘Hey, I’ll use my body in this situation and I’m not even going to break up with my boyfriend. I’m just going to cheat and let him find out.’ I’m sorry. I can’t understand Tabatha’s side where I feel bad for her in this scenario, and I’m sure I’m missing something and I should, but I can’t. She cheated. She should’ve given Jordan a heads-up. Shoot him a text, at least, not do it cold like she did.”

We didn’t have these conversations often. Ones that dealt with sexual shit, girls, their points of view. Bren didn’t speak up, and most times, she thought like we did, so we were in uncharted waters here. I wished I had something to say. I felt like I should have something to say, but I didn’t. If it had happened to Bren, or my sister, and I already went down that rabbit hole when Taz was just hurt, I still had no clue what I would’ve said or done.

It was messed up. That’s all I kept coming back to.

Bren had reached out to Tabatha. She went to her house the next day after work, but Tab wasn’t there. The sorority girls were adamant that Tabatha had taken off for the weekend. Bren was fine with that, opting instead to send a few texts. She called her, too. No response from Tabatha.

Monday happened. Nothing.

Tuesday. Same.

Bren tried getting in touch with her again last night, and I only knew about it because I walked in as she was leaving a message. Her eyes found mine over the table, and I was reading the sorrow there. She was asking herself the same question that Jordan had asked himself over and over again…had she done enough?

“If Tab wanted to talk, she would contact you. You guys are in the same position as she was when she decided to do something to help her dad. Wrong decision made, but it had been hers. She owned it.”