52- are we friends?

The next morning, Jessica wakes up and quickly gets ready without saying goodbye to her father. She drives to school, not letting her thoughts invade her mind, listening to a Taylor Swift song on her player.

As she gets out of the car, she sees Vicki, who looks more beautiful than usual, wearing a miniskirt and makeup for class. Jessica feels a flutter in her stomach as she looks at her best friend, who could become her future sister. She gets out of the car and walks towards her.

**

(Vicki narrating)

When I see Jessica, I feel a great relief. She is the only person in this world that I would trust my life with, besides my mom, but right now, my mom is not my friend. She came home late last night, and I can't help but wonder if something happened between her and my boyfriend, James. I need to talk to James in his office later.

Smiling, Jessica approaches me. She greets me with two kisses on the cheek and puts her hand on my shoulder.

"Au revoir! Ready for French class?" Jessica smiles, her eyes shining as if she had sex all night.

"Did you sleep with Cameron last night?" I want to know.

"Oh my goodness, how are you psychic, Miss? You are my best friend, I know you too well, and it's easy to deduce because you have an overwhelming glow in your eyes. It's magnetic, as if you could enchant anyone with your eyes," she explains.

"Oh, I see," says Jessica, placing her hand on my shoulder. Then we start walking together towards the annex building where the French classroom is located.

"So, best friend, since you know me so well, do you want me to tell you all the dirty details, the rough sex, the soft romantic one, the best of my orgasms?"

"It's not necessary, I just want to know how you felt."

"Fantastic, Cameron makes me feel like a goddess in bed, he makes me feel truly loved, feminine, admired. His way of touching me drives me crazy. He makes me feel like my body is entirely his, that he loves and appreciates me. It's something very romantic, very intimate. I love moaning in his mouth," Jess says and sighs deeply.

At that moment, I smile and watch Jessica blush and her eyes shining. We enter the French classroom and sit in the last row of two tables together, at the back of the room. The whole classroom is decorated with paintings of France, maps of French rivers, maps of French plazas. Paintings of French writers or quotes from authors like Jean Paul Sartre. The whole classroom, including the adjacent library where a huge, long glass table, decorated with abundant books around, inspire an intellectual and French atmosphere. The truth is that I like French as much as literature, maybe because my favorite novels and books are French. I love French literature.

Jessica sits next to me, and we both lean our heads together to continue talking in silence. Then she whispers in a soft voice, "what fascinates me the most about being with Cameron is that he understands what I like and respects what I don't. He really cares about treating me well in bed, making sure I enjoy sex. Maybe outside of bed, he's distant and barely has time to see me, but in bed, he makes me feel truly loved. He kisses my back, my waist. He knows how much I like it when he touches my waist or how I tense my leg muscles when I want to feel him inside me. When I start moaning, he asks me not to stop, pleads with me. And when he touches me down there, oh my God, Vicki, it's as if he's addicted to my vagina, as if he wants to touch it all the time," Jessica laughs and tells me in a hushed voice, "I can't wait for you to have a boyfriend, you'll understand what I'm talking about," Jessica says.

I bite my lips as I listen to her, and a heat rises up to my belly. The truth is that I understand what Jessica is talking about, that passionate desire that consumes your senses, her father makes me feel it. But of course, I can't confess it, she's my best friend and her father is my boyfriend.

"I can imagine it," I reply to Jessica.

She looks at me intently and suddenly her face becomes serious, as if there's a thought contained in her gaze that she doesn't tell me. I observe her, and her doll-like face, her freckled nose, and her blue eyes look at me, shadowed by silence.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Nothing, it's just that I remember that having sex with Cameron last night was the perfect medicine after finding out that my dad was with his… umm… girlfriend… in his room," Jessica says, and her tone of voice sounds cautious.

At that moment, my heart skips a beat.

"Your father was with her at your house?" I ask demandingly. I wait for Jessica's answer, but she seems to relax seeing that I'm interested in asking questions and getting information.

"Yes, when I got home from your house, I went into my room and as I walked down the hallway, I saw that my father had arrived. I peeked into his room to say hello, and well, there she was, with his new woman… girlfriend."

"Now you call her girlfriend?" I inquire, noticing that Jessica speaks with more respect about the woman who is dating her father, the one she thinks is dating her father, because in reality, her father is dating me. "Maybe Jessica found out last night that James is dating my mom, that's why she's talking respectfully about the topic," I silently think. "Perhaps it's better for Jessica to think that James is with mom and not with me."

"Vicki, I've been thinking, after seeing my dad last night, you know… in his things. I decided to call Cameron, and then I felt much better. And I've been thinking, I don't want to get involved in my dad's new relationship, I prefer to let him be happy," Jessica concludes.

"I understand," I murmur in a hushed voice, my eyes fixed on my friend, wanting to know everything. "And did you see your dad's girlfriend? Did he introduce you to her?"

"No, this morning I left home early and didn't say goodbye, I don't know if she stayed over, but I didn't formally meet her," she says, shrugging.

"So, you don't know who your dad's girlfriend is?" I ask Jessica with a challenging look. If Jessica tells me yes, she will confess that her father is dating my mom, and if she denies it, my best friend will lie to me, and I'll know that she has lied to me.

"No, Vicki, when I walked in, she had her back to me, I couldn't see her face," Jessica explains.

"Oh, I understand," I say, looking down disappointed. I don't know if my best friend lied to me, but I feel hurt. At that moment, the French teacher enters and greets the whole class, saying good morning.