I haven’t seen you since the summer after our freshman year.” Carson sat in one of the plush chairs next to her. Ryanne was thankful that they were the only ones in the cozy area of the lobby. She stared into her mug of chocolate, as if the floating marshmallows would reveal all the answers to the questions that plagued her. Like the fact she didn’t understand why it bothered her so much when the Latina woman saddled up to Carson as if she were staking her claim on Ryanne’s old childhood neighbor. Last night, when she had seen the woman climbing on a stranger’s body, Ryanne had only felt disgust at the overt antics. But on the slopes when she recognized Phillip as the guy who had taken shots from a woman’s cleavage, that meant that Carson had been the friend beside him. The Hispanic chick’s inviting dialogue had confirmed that. The knowledge had caused a sick feeling in her stomach. More disgust? Or jealousy? At what point Carson had become more than just a friend, she wasn’t sure.
