Call It What You Want(95)

I jerk back.

She’s not done. “I struggle for every single grade I get. You sail through AP classes with no effort—”

“It takes effort, Rach.”

“Fine.” Her voice cracks. “Fine. It takes effort. But I can’t do it. You would have sailed right into college, probably with a ton of scholarships.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t play any sports. I barely have any extracurriculars. I mean—”

“Would you listen to yourself?”

The rushed passion in her voice stops me short.

She swipes at her eyes. “This is so stupid. You’re completely missing the point.”

She’s so clearly upset about this that I can’t decide whether to be angry or compassionate. “What is the point? What does this have to do with Drew?”

“How do you think I felt when a girl like you thought she had to cheat on the SATs? I mean, you’re right. Drew makes asshole comments, but he’s trying to make me feel better.” She sniffs. “Look at your perfect sister. Look at your perfect family.”

And then I get it. I think about Samantha and all the pressure she was under—and how I compared myself to her. Just like Rachel was apparently comparing herself to me.

I stare at her. “Rachel. We’re not perfect.”

“You kind of are,” she says. “You have everything you want, and you almost threw it all away. I’m not even going to be able to go to college.”

“You’re going to go to college, too!” I say to her. “Your dad used to brag about how he’d been smart enough to save for his little girl to—”

“Not anymore.” She sniffs again. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean, it’s gone?” But as soon as I ask the question, I know. “Rob’s dad?” I whisper.

She nods and ducks her head to swipe her cheek on the shoulder of her sweater. “No one knows, okay? Well, Drew knows. Dad’s still really upset about it. He doesn’t want the other cops to think he was stupid enough to be taken in.”

Now I understand her attitude about Rob. I understand the vitriol behind Drew’s comments.

She looks down at me. “I’m sorry, though,” she says. “I know this is about me. I shouldn’t have been taking it out on you.”

“I should have been a better friend,” I say. “I didn’t know you were feeling this way.”

“I should have been a better friend,” she says. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

I step forward and wrap my arms around her. “No more secrets,” I say.

She nods against my hair. “No more secrets.” She hesitates. “So, are we going to have lunch together again?”

“Not today. I promised Rob I would eat with him.”

She draws back. Her expression has evened out.

I wince. “He didn’t do it, Rachel. His dad did.”

She frowns. “I know.”

There’s still some trust to be earned back there. At least I understand it better now. I bite the edge of my lip. “Maybe we can get coffee after school?” I hesitate. “I have a lot to tell you.”

Her expression softens. “I can’t wait.”

She heads off to her usual table, where Drew is waiting.

“Soup, dear?” says the cafeteria lady.

“Yes, please.” It’s broccoli and cheese, my favorite. They sprinkle shredded cheese on top and serve it with a biscuit. It’s amazing.

Owen Goettler comes to mind. I can see him from here, a lone cheese sandwich in front of him.

I clear my throat and catch the cafeteria lady’s eye. “I’ll have two,” I say.



By the time I get to the table, Rob and Owen are sitting there. Without a word, I slide the soup off my tray and give it to Owen. Then I sit down beside Rob. He takes my hand and holds it between us.

Owen is staring at me in surprise.

“Nothing was missed,” I say, feeding his own words back to him. “No one was hurt.”

“You stole this?” he says in surprise.

“What?” I say. “No! I just mean it’s fine. I can afford an extra soup without hurting anyone.”

His face softens. “Thanks.” He picks up the spoon.

I look at Rob. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t look it, but he nods anyway. “Mr. London’s sister is an attorney with Legal Aid. We had a long call this morning. She’s going to help Mom arrange a ‘surrender,’ in the hopes that by testifying against Connor’s parents, she can avoid jail time.”

I squeeze his hand. “Rob. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He rubs his eyes with his free hand. “But I’m exhausted. Ms. London says Dad will have to go to a state care facility for a while.” His voice breaks, but he catches it and steadies it. “Because I can’t do all that by myself. Am I a bad person that it’s kind of a relief?”

It’s such a crazy question that I’m shocked he seems completely sincere. “No. Rob. No. You’re the most decent person I know.”

“No,” he says. “Not by a long shot.”

“You are,” Owen says. He hesitates. “You’re more decent than I am, and I never expected to say that.”