I gesture to the group near the front of the store. “This thing . . . with Jacob.”
Tahnee crosses her arms and furrows her brows. “What are you talking about? Why?”
I don't know why I feel so nervous telling her this. She's always seemed to be a reasonable type of person. So I have to trust that she'll hear me out and that she'll believe my words. But if she doesn't, then I might lose her friendship and likely the others, too.
Dipping my head, I close my eyes briefly before facing her again. “Okay. I've been spending time with him.”
“What?” she says in disbelief as she takes a step back.
“No, Tahnee, listen to me.” I close the gap she just made between us. “He didn't do it.”
She scoffs. “Let me guess. He told you that he didn't do it?” I think back to the night that I found out. I don't think he would have ever straight out said it to me. I had only heard his words through the bathroom door. When I don't reply immediately, Tahnee continues, “And you actually listened to him? I can't believe you, Remi.”
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it's the truth. It's a long story, but he really didn't do it.” My mind goes back and forth, contemplating how much to tell her, wondering whether his possible feelings of embarrassment are worth it to gain her as an ally. After some thought, I decide that they are. “He hadn't even had sex with anyone when he went to prison.”
A humorless laugh passes her lips. “Again, this could be something he's just saying to you.”
“No, Tahnee. I know he was still a virgin.”
She shifts her feet a little, narrowing her gaze. “How do you know that?”
I hold her stare, not speaking a word but saying everything with a look.
Her eyes widen. “You fucked him?” she exclaims.
“Shh, keep your voice down.” I turn my head to the others, but thankfully they're still not paying us any mind.
Tahnee shakes her head and then stares at the ground for a long minute like she's thinking everything through.
Thinking of everything she's ever heard about him.
Thinking of every encounter she's ever had with him over the past five months or what she's maybe done to him.
Then finally, still looking at the ground, she speaks.
“You said you've been spending a lot of time with him?
“I have.”
“He looks like sex walking.”
“He does.”
“But you were his first?”
“Yes.”
She starts chewing on the tip of her thumb. “And he went to prison even though he was innocent?”
“For ten years.”
“Shit.” She finally looks up at me, with the most serious expression I've ever seen her wear covering her face. Then she nods slowly. “Okay. I believe you.”
I let out a heavy breath and feel my shoulders relax, the relief flowing through me like a wave. I didn't realize just how tensely I had been holding myself while waiting for her to reply.
“But I'm not sure how we're going to stop this. They're not likely to just take your, or even my, word for it.”
“I know.”