My Girlfriend Slept With My Best Friend First novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Send-Off Dinner
At her going-away dinner Megan tells nine friends that her first time was with Devin's best friend, pinches his cheek, and Devin walks out. Her voice message meant for Shane lands on Devin's phone instead: Shane owes her a flight.
Megan had fixed my collar in the cab and ordered the lemon cake for me, because she knew I hated chocolate.
She waited until the waiter put it down to tell nine people she had slept with my best friend.
"I have a confession before I leave," she said, and tapped her fork against her glass.
Everyone from her program turned toward her.
One girl at the end of the table already had her phone up, filming.
I thought it was a toast.
Megan does toasts.
She had picked this restaurant, this dress and this table three weeks ago, the day the program accepted her.
"My first time was with Shane," she said. "Devin's Shane. The night I turned eighteen."
Nobody laughed.
A knife slid off somebody's plate and hit the floor.
"What?" I said.
Megan smiled at me, her real smile, the one with the freckles in it.
"Don't look like that, babe. It wasn't a betrayal."
She picked up her wine.
"Shane and I have always tried to get the better of each other. That night he said something about you, and I wanted to win."
She took a sip.
"I'd had too much to drink and I was mad, so I took him upstairs. And that was that."
The girl with the phone leaned closer.
"You called me that night, remember?" Megan said. "You were in Ohio at your grandfather's wake. Seven times."
I remembered.
I had stood in a church parking lot in a borrowed tie and listened to her voicemail greeting seven times.
"I saw every call," Megan said. "I was busy."
Her eyes went soft.
"The next day I could hardly walk. Shane was a mess afterward, you know."
She shook her head, fond.
"He made me swear I'd never tell you. Big tough rugby guy, and his hands shook."
Somebody whispered, "Oh my God."
"It's old news," Megan said. "I'm telling you now because I don't want to leave with secrets."
She smiled around the table.
"Shane has already forgiven me. Now you do the same."
Then she reached across and pinched my cheek.
"Come on. You're still my favorite."
I looked at the table.
Nine faces, nine people who had eaten dinner with us a dozen times.
None of them looked at me for more than a second.
Shane had texted me at five that he wasn't coming.
He said he'd take our couch later, same as always, so I'd have help with the leftovers.
In four years of weekends at our apartment, he had never once gone past our bedroom door.
That afternoon he had cornered me after the gym and asked what I would do if Megan ever cheated.
I had laughed and said I'd keep her anyway, that he was only jealous she liked me more.
He hadn't laughed back.
Megan cut the first slice of cake.
"You'll thank me for this," she said. "Can you imagine finding out some other way?"
I put my napkin on my plate.
"Devin," she said. "Sit down. Have cake."
"No."
"Don't make it a scene."
"It's already a scene," I said. "You made it one in front of a camera."
A boy at the other end of the table put his chair back on all four legs.
"I'm going," I said.
"Fine." She picked up her phone. "I'll text you from Lisbon."
So I walked out.
The November rain had left the sidewalk shiny.
I stood under the awning with my keys in my fist, and I didn't know which way home was.
My phone buzzed.
It was a voice message from Megan, sent from the table while I was still on the stairs.
Her favorites screen puts Shane and me side by side, and I knew it, because I had set it up for her.
I pressed play.
"Round three to me," Megan said, laughing low. "He didn't even cry, babe. I told him everything and he just walked out. You lose."
A chair scraped behind her voice.
"And you're coming to Lisbon on my flight. I've got your ticket. Don't forget what you owe me."
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