“Right,” she agreed, emphatically nodding. “Like, even if she forgave him for all the crap he’s pulled over her, there’s no way she’d forgive how he’s treated me, or you, or anyone else. She’s too smart for that.” She wouldn’t honestly put it past Remy to somehow forgive Connor; Remy was really sweet and tried to avoid conflict, and also really good at seeing different perspectives, so if anyone could find a way to forgive him or at least say the words, it would have to be her. But Remy was also a really good friend. She might forgive him for what he’d done to her, but Marley was certain she wouldn’t overlook how he treated her community. She was too thoughtful for that kind of selective forgetfulness.
Then Marley visibly wilted. Remy was thoughtful, and a good friend, but if she hadn’t picked up on all the clues the Canadian had thought she was doing such a great job at leaving, well, what else was possible? With a sigh, she dropped the flier beside her plate, aimlessly spiraling her fork back and forth in her small lake of maple syrup. “Confession time,” she informed Drew, volume dropping, and offered him the empty side of the booth with a wave if he felt inclined to sit down, all intent of saving it for her roommate having slipped. “I thought we were something. But now I think I was wrong. It was never really… explicit.” They hadn’t even made out, which was like, fourteen percent of the total perks of dating. They hadn’t even held hands on any of their dates - or not dates? - whatever things - just did the classic ‘walk beside each other so that Marley could almost pretend their hands were touching but never quite get up the nerve to actually make a move because (insert all her earlier reflections on subversive POC gay dating)’. At the time she’d thought it basically counted but looking back on it? Wow she felt like an idiot. She cut a big piece of soggy toast and munched it sadly.
Then, as if all that wasn’t enough, a truly awful thought occurred to her, and she had to quickly finish her mouthful in order to express it.
“Okay, hypothetically,” she began, leaning in closer, “if they were dating, I mean, there’s no way Connor wouldn’t have an ulterior motive, right? Because of all of his conflicting prejudices. Not that racists can’t date Black people and maybe even have genuine feelings buried somewhere in their lizard brains but, y’know,” she summarized succinctly. “Anyways, it could be exactly like you said before and Connor’s becoming even worse. He knows Remy and Claudia are friends; he could just be trying to make Claudia jealous. That obviously won’t accomplish anything ‘cause her fiance is great-” Marley had never met the guy, but from what Claudia said or more accurately from what she’d interpreted of what Claudia said, she was totally into him “-and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t break the betrothal even if she did get jealous, which means he’ll just be stringing Remy along until he figures that out, and then hurt her. ...Hypothetically,” she repeated, mainly to remind herself this was just speculation, because the more she talked the more possible it seemed. If she was a superstitious person, she’d be crossing all of her fingers right now. (As it was, she just sneakily crossed her toes inside her boots.)