I open the door and see her sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, hands in her hair. After putting my night clothes in the wardrobe, I sit down next to her, a sigh escaping my lips.

We’re sitting close, both of us staring absently around the room rather than at each other.

“Why lie about your mom?” I say.

“Because I’m pretty sure your parents would know mine since they live in town.”

I turn my head to look at her. “Do I know them?”

She nods. “Louise and Jarred Hayes.” Indigo looks sad at the mention of their name. Her shoulders drop.

“Shit.”

They’re sort of famous here. Her parents live in a wealthy neighborhood close to hers, and they’re well known for the charity parties they host at least once a week. People’s opinions about them are divided: the ones that praise them and the ones that think they’re scamming everyone.

Don’t know which category I’m in.

I nod in understanding. “You could’ve said something else, though.”

“Nah. I wanted to say that,” Indigo laughs, smiling awkwardly as a strand of hair falls over her eyes.

I don’t know what to take from it. I don’t push it any further. “No lying from now on, yeah?” I raise my pinky finger for her to take.

She looks at it from the corner of the eyes, her smirk not leaving her face. “Are we really going to pinky swear?” Indigo looks from my finger to my face.

“It’s called sealing a promise,” I joke. “But yeah, why not? I want to know that you’re in.”

She nods, tangling her finger with mine.

“Now, say ‘I won’t lie to you again’.”

Indigo laughs, brushing the hair off her face. I seem to make her laugh a lot these days, and I love how good she looks wearing a smile that’s there because of me.

“Just kidding,” I shake both of our fingers, “but I would appreciate it if there were no more lies between us from now on.”

As she nods in agreement, we break apart.

“And what would you need a date for?” I ask, playfully jostling her with my shoulder.

Indigo shifts in her place and clears her throat, but doesn’t respond. I leave it that way, because I don’t want her to ever feel pressured to explain something. Indigo has her own pace, like every other person. My job as a friend is to respect it. Not to speed it up.

However, she surprises me a few moments later.

“I’m sure you know about the charity parties,” she starts, and I nod. “My mom always pays someone to be my date because of how obsessed she is with finding me a partner.”

“What? I would do it for free.”