Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“That’s fair,” I say weakly. “But—”
“How can you even show your face after you left me there passed out on the ground? Who does that?” Her voice pitches up another notch, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small. “You let me cry on your shoulder all this time. Pretending to understand. And what, laughing at me? Congratulating yourself for how well you pulled it all off?”
“No, fuck. Of course not.” I make a move toward her and think I feel a rock breeze past my arm. “That’s what I’m trying—”
“Right now, Fenn. Tell me the truth. It’s the only words I want to hear. Why did you do it? Why did you lie to me all this time and never tell anyone you were there?”
My chest clenches, hands trembling with agony. What am I supposed to say? That my best friend might have drugged her and left her for dead? And my first instinct was to cover for him? That I’m still covering for him, because I can’t square it in my head how someone I’ve known practically my entire life could almost kill a girl and walk away from it.
And not just a girl. Not just Sloane’s little sister. But basically the kindest, sweetest person any of us can claim to know. The one person who least deserves all the shit we’ve put her through.
If I could only tell her a fraction of that, maybe I wouldn’t have this hollow feeling in my gut. But I can’t make the words come out, and it’s then I realize, when she drops the flashlight and my vision slowly adjusts to her red, swollen face shiny with tears, that I’ve always been a bastard. I thought I could bury the worst parts of myself. For her. Except in some sick twist, she’s what makes me so terrible—I’d do anything for her, except be a decent person.
I finally find my voice. “I wanted to tell you. But I waited too long. So long that eventually I felt like it was too late to—”
“It’s never too late to tell the truth,” she cuts in. “And you haven’t explained why you had to wait in the first place! Why not tell everyone the night it happened?”
Because he’s my best friend.
Because I didn’t know you.
Because I left you there instead of calling 911.
The words get stuck in my throat. When Casey and I were strangers, it would have been much easier to admit that my loyalties on prom night lay with Gabe and Gabe alone. And back then I still believed I’d have a chance to get the truth out of him. I didn’t expect his parents to exile him into a black hole and that I’d never talk to him again.
But Casey and I are no longer strangers, which means that now, telling her my loyalties weren’t with her first feels like a betrayal.
“Fenn,” she says, softly begging me to end this suffering. Give her the one thing she wants most, that only I can offer. The truth. “Please.”
“I…can’t,” I mumble, and I deserve every bit of what happens now.
Casey sniffs and wipes her face. “I guess you always knew this would happen, huh?”
My own eyes feel hot. Stinging hard. “In the worst possible way.”
She takes a step back, her running shoes crunching the dry leaves beneath them. “Okay. Okay, well. I guess this is done now.” The breath she lets out sounds unsteady, wheezy.
The lump in my throat almost chokes me. I blink wildly. I bite my bottom lip so hard, I taste copper on the tip of my tongue.
“Please,” I find myself begging.
“Please what?” She takes another step away.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whisper.
A strangled sob flies out of her mouth. “Fuck you, Fenn. The next time you see me, run the other way. We’re not friends. We’re nothing.” She’s walking backwards now, her movements unsteady, jerky. “I mean it. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
CHAPTER 11
CASEY
A SUDDEN IMPACT JOLTS ME AWAKE. BUT I CAN’T MOVE. IT’S DARK, save for colored tiny lights that blur my vision. A sharp, throbbing sensation rips through my skull. And then I’m freezing. Water rises up my legs. I struggle against my restraints, screaming, thrashing, only succeeding in tightening the force holding me in place. The water gushes inside the car, climbing my torso, while I yank on the door latch.
Suddenly it gives way, pulled from my grasp.
Fenn finds me in the glow of the dashboard lights.
I’m relieved to see him as he reaches across my body to unhook my seat belt. But when I try to pry myself free of the car, I find the straps still firm across my body. I reach for him, desperate. But he shoves my hands away, gripping the belt across my chest and cinching it tighter.
His dead stare is impervious to my frightened pleas for help.