"Sure."
"If Yvonne hadn't busted in last night—?"
"The answer is no."
"That's what I thought."
"It wasn't you."
She stirred her red-brown hair. "I know that. If it had been me—if I'd thought so—I'd have repressed my own feelings about your blonde roommate."
"What's going to happen to her?"
Gwen curved one shoulder toward me and straightened it—a shrug that dismissed responsibility. "How do you think a girl like me feels—about one like her? She has everything. She's always had it. And thrown herself away."
"Save the tough act for somebody you can fool!"
Gwen came over and put her fingers in my hair and turned my head up and kissed me where it wouldn't show. "She wants to know—that's all. Why shouldn't she? She's been dying all her life from not knowing."