Heavenly's POV

My phone buzzed again in my hand, Billie's name lighting up the screen. I sighed before swiping to answer.

"I'm picking you up. Be ready."

That was all she said before hanging up. No explanation. No room for argument.

I sat there, staring at my phone for a second before letting out a frustrated sigh. Courtney, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to me, raised an eyebrow.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Billie's on her way," I muttered, standing up to grab my hoodie.

Courtney scoffed. "Oh, so now she cares?"

I shot her a look but didn't say anything. I wasn't in the mood for this.

A few minutes later, I heard a car pull up outside. I hesitated before grabbing my phone and heading out. Billie's car was idling at the curb, the headlights beaming through the darkness. I slid into the passenger seat and closed the door.

Silence.

The car ride was dead quiet.

Billie's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her jaw clenched, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Her expression was unreadable, but I could tell-she was mad.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my hands. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but I already knew.

The video.

Que sent her that damn video, and now she was pissed.

The drive felt like it lasted forever, the air so thick with tension I could barely breathe. When we finally pulled up to Finneas' house, Billie shut the car off and got out without a word. I followed hesitantly, my pulse quickening as she led me inside.

Still silent.

She didn't stop until we were in my guest room. The second the door shut behind us, she finally turned around to face me.

"Do you like her?"

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Gia," Billie said, crossing her arms. "Do you like her?"

Now that I was sober, the events from last night hit me differently. I knew I shouldn't have let Gia get that close. I barely even knew her. I wasn't even sure if I liked her like that or if I was just... caught up in the moment.

But Billie's tone-her anger-set something off inside me.

I clenched my jaw. "Why does it matter?"

Billie's expression darkened. "It matters because you let some random girl all over you, and-"

"Oh, and what?" I cut her off, my voice rising. "You get to be mad about that? You slept with your ex, Billie! You fucked Que! And you think you have the right to be upset over me dancing with someone?"

Billie flinched like I had slapped her. "That's not the same."

"The hell it's not!" I snapped. "You have no right to act like this when you're the one who fucked up first!"

Billie exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "I know I fucked up."

I scoffed. "Oh, do you? Because you sure as hell didn't tell me about it right away."

Her eyes flickered with guilt, but I was too angry to care.

"I was drunk," she muttered, voice strained.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, you were drunk? Well, guess what? So was I last night. But you don't seem to give a damn about that."

Billie opened her mouth, then closed it, looking away.

We stood there, the air thick with anger, frustration, guilt. Neither of us spoke.

Then, after what felt like forever, Billie's voice came out barely above a whisper.

"...Do you regret it?"

I inhaled sharply. My chest tightened.

Did I?

I didn't know.

But right now, I wasn't going to give her that answer.

Instead, I crossed my arms and looked her dead in the eye.

"Do you?"

Silence.

Billie's lips parted like she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Her eyes flickered with something-guilt, hesitation, regret? I couldn't tell. She was never easy to read, and I hated that.

I stepped closer, challenging her, forcing her to face me. "Well? Do you regret it?"

Billie exhaled sharply, breaking eye contact. "Of course I do," she muttered. "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking, and I-"

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "That's bullshit."

Her gaze snapped back to mine. "What?"

"You weren't that drunk, Billie. You knew what you were doing," I said, my voice laced with venom. "You made a choice. You chose him."

Billie clenched her jaw, frustration evident in her posture. "I didn't choose him. I messed up."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" I scoffed. "That erases the fact that you slept with someone who treated you like shit? That you went back to the person who manipulated you? And now you have the nerve to be mad at me for dancing with some random girl?"

She ran her hands through her hair, exhaling harshly. "I know I fucked up, okay? But seeing you with Gia-"

"You don't get to be jealous, Billie." My voice was firm, unwavering. "Not after what you did."

Billie took a step closer, her blue eyes burning into mine. "Then why does it bother you so much?"

I froze.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me. "If you don't care, if what I did doesn't matter, then why are you so mad?"

My pulse pounded in my ears. "Because I trusted you," I said, voice barely above a whisper. "And you broke that."

Billie's expression softened, guilt washing over her features. "Heavenly-"

"No." I stepped back, shaking my head. "You don't get to 'Heavenly' me right now. You don't get to act like you're sorry when you would've never told me if it wasn't eating you alive."

She looked down, exhaling through her nose. "I was scared."

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. "Yeah? Well, guess what? So am I."

I could feel my emotions spiraling-anger, sadness, hurt, all crashing into me at once. My chest ached, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

I didn't want to look at her anymore.

I turned toward the door, gripping the handle. "I need space," I muttered.

Billie tensed. "Wait-"

"I need space," I repeated, my voice sharper.

She flinched but didn't argue.

Without another word, I walked out, leaving Billie standing alone in the middle of my room.