Call It What You Want(47)

“Someone said they had to scrap the scores of everyone in the room.”

When she looks back at me, stars glitter in her eyes, and I realize it’s because tears sit there, waiting. “I know. They all had to take it again. I have to take it again. I just—Samantha had just gotten her big scholarship. Everyone was celebrating. There was … there was so much pressure. For once, I wanted to be the one who succeeded. I wanted to be the one who came home with a big success that my parents were celebrating. When I think back on that day, it feels like a dream. I’d been up all night studying, and then they put me next to Randall Briggs. He already had a flipping fifteen hundred! I was so tired, and I needed a good score. I didn’t mean to screw it up for everyone else. I didn’t.”

“Oh, Maegan.” I don’t even know how to finish that.

“Please don’t. Please don’t pity me. I don’t deserve it. I know what I did was wrong.”

I stare down at her and let out a breath. “I think you should stop punishing yourself.”

“You should stop punishing yourself,” she says. “You’re the one who didn’t do anything wrong. These were your friends. Your father—what you went through …” She takes a breath. “They shouldn’t have turned their backs on you.”

Maegan wouldn’t have turned her back on me. I’m sure of it. “They all think I’m a criminal.”

“Well, they all think I’m a cheater.”

“You’re not a cheater.”

“Yeah, Rob. I was. Once.”

“One mistake doesn’t define you.”

She sniffs and carefully swipes at her eyes. “You’re going to wreck all of Sam’s handiwork.”

That makes me smile. I want to touch her so badly that my hand aches, but I still can’t tell if she feels the same way or if she’s saying these things out of kindness.

“You look very pretty,” I say instead.

That blush blooms on her cheeks again. “Thanks. You look …” Her blush deepens. “Never mind.”

“Oh, now you need to tell me.”

She sobers. “I almost said you look like the old Rob Lachlan.”

That makes me wonder what the new Rob Lachlan looks like. “I wish I felt like him.”

Feet swish through the grass nearby, undercutting a low murmur of conversation. A guy and a girl stride across the yard behind Maegan. The guy is carrying two six-packs of something in a red carton. He glances at us dismissively—just another couple having a discussion or an argument or whatever—but does a double take when his eyes land on my face.

“Rob. Wow.” It’s Zach Poco. I should have brought Owen.

My defenses snap into place like a brick wall assembling in a cartoon. I can almost hear the stones clinking together. “Hey,” I say.

I barely recognize the girl he’s with, but her eyes widen, then go from me to Maegan and back.

For a breath of time, I wonder if Zach is going to cop an attitude like Connor.

But then he shifts a six-pack under the opposite arm and extends a hand. “Hey, man. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

We literally go to the same school and cross paths at least once a day, but okay. I can play this game because it’s preferable to the alternative. I grasp his hand and do the awkward pull that’s not really a handshake and not really a hug.

“You know Lily?” he says, nodding to the girl with him.

“No. Hi,” I say. “This is Maegan.”

“Hey,” says Zach. “You guys going in?”

I look at Maegan. “You ready?”

Her eyes say she’s ready to bolt. But there must be some of her sister in her, because instead of dragging me to the car, she straightens and says, “Sure. Let’s go.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Maegan

Rob leads me through the front door into a wall of darkness and sound and writhing bodies. The smell of beer hangs in the air, thick and almost sickly sweet. None of the house lights are on in the main foyer or the large room beyond, but light shines from a side hallway, offering enough illumination so we don’t run into anyone. The music is all-encompassing, bass pulsing the floor. The house is massive, but I can’t get a handle on the layout in the dark. People are everywhere, but I barely recognize half of them. Shadow cloaks every face, and I’m pretty sure we’ve already lost the couple Rob knew from the front lawn.

A few people glance our way as we move through the foyer, but no one stops us, and no one says anything. Eyes flick over my face and either lose interest or skip down my body.

I draw closer to Rob, tense. I’m not sure what I expect to happen. Armed guards with barely restrained Dobermans? No one is paying any attention to us.

We make it to the edge of the large room at the back. The family room? Living room? I can’t tell, and in a house this big, it might be called something pretentious, like a great room. Windows take up most of the back wall, beyond which I can see a sprawling patio and a covered pool, all lined with flaming tiki torches. A few classmates are braving the cold to chat on the patio, but in here, everyone is dancing.

Then I spot Samantha, in the center of the crowd, because of course. She’s dancing with two boys, all but pressed between them. Her eyes are closed, and she’s lost to the beat and the movement. I want to roll my eyes, but at the same time, I’m glad we came. Maybe she really did need this.