I'll Stop the World (25)

While I’m pondering where else I could go that Stan can’t find me, my phone buzzes. I glance down to see I’ve missed a series of texts from Alyssa while I was driving.

Are you on your way back yet?

Stan is here

At my house I mean

He says he’s really sorry about yesterday

He seems really messed up

Get here soon please

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to throw the phone out the window. It’s one thing to split when no one knew where I was; it’s another to ignore a plea from the one person in the world who actually cares about me.

Heaving a sigh, I pull my key out of the ignition and head inside.

Stan is sitting on the couch in the living room when I walk in, his leg bouncing up and down with enough nervous energy to break concrete. Alyssa perches in an armchair on the other side of the room, back straight. Neither of them is talking. Alyssa’s phone is in her hand, her head down as she types furiously. Probably another text for me, wondering where I am.

When he sees me, Stan practically leaps to his feet.

“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday,” he says, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I had a really bad day and I screwed up. But that wasn’t me. You’ve got to know it wasn’t me.”

“How’d you even know where I was?” I ask, even though it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to figure it out. It’s not like I have a ton of friends with couches I could’ve crashed on.

Stan ignores my question, grabbing my arm. “You have to come home.”

I yank my arm out of his grasp so hard he takes a stumbling step forward. “No, I don’t.”

“Look, I know I said some stuff I shouldn’t have, but this is really important.”

“What is really important?”

Stan’s eyes dart to Alyssa. “It’s a family thing.”

“Like you and I have ever really been family.”

His expression darkens, fury flashing behind his eyes. His hand moves so fast I don’t have time to react, his grip around my arm so tight it feels like he’s trying to break my bones. To my horror, tears spring to my eyes as I try unsuccessfully to wrench my arm away. “You ungrateful little brat. If you had any idea what I’ve done for our family—”

“Hey!” Alyssa jumps in between us, pulling at his hand to aid in my useless struggle. When did Stan get so strong? His fingers feel like they’ve been carved from stone. “Let him go!”

At the sound of Alyssa’s voice, his grip loosens just enough for me to pull free of him. I stumble back, making sure to stay out of arm’s reach, rubbing the spot on my arm that I’m sure will later turn black with bruises. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just . . .” His eyes dart around the room, as if he’s searching for the answer somewhere on Alyssa’s ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if he’s on something.

Then again, after the way he’s been acting, maybe I don’t know better after all.

He tries to grab me again, but I dodge him this time, his hand closing on empty air.

“Leave me alone.”

“Stan, maybe you should go,” Alyssa says firmly, coming to stand by me.

Stan’s restless gaze settles on her, his manic expression softening, just for a second. “He has never deserved you,” he murmurs.

“That’s it,” I say. My skin feels hot, my nerves all crackling like a thousand lit fuses. My arm throbs painfully. I take Alyssa’s hand and pull her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go to the bonfire.” I glare at Stan. “You’d better be gone by the time we get back.”

Before we can get away from him, Stan literally lunges at me, throwing his arms around me from behind and hauling me away from the door. “You’re not going to that.”

“Get off me!” I shove him away, blinking in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“Listen to me,” he says, his hands hovering in the air between us. “Just listen. You can’t go to that bonfire tonight. Trust me.”

“Why would I trust you after the things you’ve said to me?”

He shakes his head, his eyes wild. “If you’d just listen—”

I’ve had enough. I push him roughly aside, taking satisfaction in the thick thud his shoulder makes as he stumbles into the door of the coat closet. Now I won’t be the only one walking away with bruises tonight.

Alyssa lets out a little squeak of shock, but holds tight to my hand as I pull her through the front door and down the steps.

“Justin!” Stan calls after me as we jump into my car and slam the doors. He’s limping more than usual, still favoring his bad knee. “Don’t go! Come home with me. Please!”

I give him a funny look as I shove the keys in the ignition. Stan never says please. At least not to me.

The engine turns over and the Mustang grinds to life. I back down Alyssa’s drive and onto the street, Stan still shouting behind me. I can’t make out what else he’s saying over the roar of the engine, and I don’t care. I shove Stan out of my brain as we head toward the bonfire.





Chapter Fifteen


ROSE

Cars were already packed onto the Derrins’ expansive lawn by the time Rose emerged from the tree-lined drive. She gritted her teeth, knuckles white on the wheel as she hunted for a space. She’d finally agreed to attend the bonfire with Lisa and Shawn after prolonged begging from Lisa, but when Shawn arrived to pick them up, he’d seemed upset. Feeling like a third wheel, Rose had volunteered to drive herself in order to give them some time alone. Now, hunting for a parking space, she kind of wished she’d just stayed home.