Crush by Nicole Williams Page B

putting it, but so honest. One good thing had come of this day—I had a new friend. “I like you, too. Friend.”
    She waved before glancing back at Jude. “Sweet pad, QB! Sorry to eat and run, but life calls.”
    Jude glanced between Sybill and me, not doing as good a job as I was of pretending we hadn’t just had a screaming match minutes ago. “Thanks, Sybill,” he replied. “I’m glad you got to finally meet Luce.”
    With Sybill gone, and Jude starting to make his way toward me, that group of girls to my right were a welcome distraction. I ignored the fact that their dresses were so shiny that together they created a collective disco ball. I also ignored that I would be the smallest-boobed girl in the bunch. Smallest by a landslide.
    All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to talk to Jude just yet, I wasn’t ready to move past the nasty things we’d said to each other, and I certainly didn’t want a repeat of that blowup. I’d get past it—I always did—but not yet.
    As Jude drew closer, I popped over to the girls. I should have reminded myself that “popping” wasn’t exactly a casual way to work your way into the group. Every flatironed, platinum-blond head spun toward me. How many times did I need to be on the spot in my twenty-one years of life? Really?
    However, my not-so-stealthy move had worked. Jude wasn’t marching my way anymore. Smart man.
    Out of the pan, into the fire.
    Say something, Lucy , I commanded myself as everyone waited, staring at me like I didn’t belong. Then I remembered Sybill’s words of wisdom. I latched on to the first thing that caught my attention.
    “I love your ring,” I said, nodding at the girl next to me, her hand curled around a champagne glass.
    There was another moment of silence before a chorus of “awww”s went through the group.
    “That is so sweet of you to say,” Ring Girl said, putting her other hand to her chest. Wow. I’d seen big boobs in my day, but these things. They could have had their own zip code. “Chad got it for me for our anniversary.”
    More “aww”s. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard. I didn’t do “awww.”
    “How many years have you been married?” I asked, feeling like I had this small-talk thing down.
    “Not our wedding anniversary, silly,” she said, laughing like I was just too cute. “We’re not married, just dating.”
    “Oh,” I said. “How many years have you been together?”
    “Two months today,” she said proudly.
    “You’ve been dating for two months, and he got you that?” Whoever this Chad was, he was a certifiable idiot. Or whoever this ring girl was, she was rather talented at what she did.
    “No, she got that because she’s been giving him BJs for two months,” the girl to my left said under her breath before snickering. “She’s obviously very good with her mouth.”
    The girls all joined in with her snickering, even the girl who gave the best BJs on the block, apparently.
    “Wow,” I said. “Good for you.” I had no other reply. Sybill was right: There was nothing going on up there.
    “What about you?” a dark-haired girl across from me piped up. “Let’s see your ring.”
    Holding out my hand, I couldn’t help the smile that formed. One always did when I looked at my engagement ring. It had a special way of reminding me of Jude’s and my past, as well as the promise of our future. There was powerful stuff in that ring.
    “How big is that?” she asked.
    Continuing to admire it, I said, “A third of a carat.”
    A few sharp snickers, followed by a hush. When I looked up, I found the dark-haired girl fighting a smirk. “Oh,” she said, flashing her ring that was ten, if not twenty times bigger than mine. “I didn’t realize they made diamonds that small.”
    Another round of snickers. And now I was pissed all over again. At least it wasn’t at Jude. He’d worked his ass off to save enough money to buy my engagement ring, and these self-righteous bitches who had likely