One of Us is Lying(33)

“You’re not a sociopath.”

“How do you know?” I say it like I’m making fun, but I really want to know the answer. I’m the guy who got searched. The obvious outlier and scapegoat, as Officer Lopez said. Someone who lies whenever it’s convenient and would do it in a heartbeat to save his own ass. I’m not sure how all that adds up to trust for someone I hadn’t talked to in six years.

Bronwyn doesn’t answer right away, and I stop channel surfing at the Cartoon Network to watch a snippet of some new show with a kid and a snake. It doesn’t look promising. “I remember how you used to look out for your mom,” she finally says. “When she’d show up at school and act … you know. Like she was sick or something.”

Like she was sick or something. I guess Bronwyn could be referring to the time my mother screamed at Sister Flynn during parent-teacher conferences and ended up ripping all our artwork off the walls. Or the way she’d cry on the curb while she was waiting to pick me up from soccer practice. There’s a lot to choose from.

“I really liked your mom,” Bronwyn says tentatively when I don’t answer. “She used to talk to me like I was a grown-up.”

“She’d swear at you, you mean,” I say, and Bronwyn laughs.

“I always thought it was more like she was swearing with me.”

Something about the way she says that gets to me. Like she could see the person under all the other crap. “She liked you.” I think about Bronwyn in the stairwell today, her hair still in that shiny ponytail and her face bright. As if everything is interesting and worth her time. If she were around, she’d like you now.

“She used to tell me …” Bronwyn pauses. “She said you only teased me so much because you had a crush on me.”

I glance at Amber’s text, still unanswered. “I might have. I don’t remember.”

Like I said. I lie whenever it’s convenient.

Bronwyn’s quiet for a minute. “I should go. At least try to sleep.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, bye. And, um, Nate?” She speaks quickly, in a rush. “I had a crush on you back then. For whatever that’s worth. Nothing, probably. But anyway. FYI. So, good night.”

After she hangs up I put the phone on my bedside table and pick up the other one. I read Amber’s message again, then type, Come over.

Bronwyn’s na?ve if she thinks there’s more to me than that.





Addy


Wednesday, October 3, 7:50 a.m.


Ashton keeps making me go to school. My mother couldn’t care less. As far as she’s concerned I’ve ruined all our lives, so it doesn’t much matter what I do anymore. She doesn’t say those exact words, but they’re etched across her face every time she looks at me.

“Five thousand dollars just to talk to a lawyer, Adelaide,” she hisses at me over breakfast Thursday morning. “I hope you know that’s coming out of your college fund.”

I’d roll my eyes if I had the energy. We both know I don’t have a college fund. She’s been on the phone to my father in Chicago for days, hassling him for the money. He doesn’t have much to spare, thanks to his second, younger family, but he’ll probably send at least half to shut her up and feel good about what an involved parent he is.

Jake still won’t talk to me, and I miss him so much, it’s like I’ve been hollowed out by a nuclear blast and there’s nothing left but ashes fluttering inside brittle bones. I’ve sent him dozens of texts that aren’t only unanswered; they’re unread. He unfriended me on Facebook and unfollowed me on Instagram and Snapchat. He’s pretending I don’t exist and I’m starting to think he’s right. If I’m not Jake’s girlfriend, who am I?

He was supposed to be suspended all week for hitting TJ, but his parents raised a fuss about how Simon’s death has put everyone on edge, so I guess he’s back today. The thought of seeing him makes me sick enough that I decided to stay home. Ashton had to drag me out of bed. She’s staying with us indefinitely, for now.

“You’re not going to wither up and die from this, Addy,” Ashton lectures as she shoves me toward the shower. “He doesn’t get to erase you from the world. God, you made a stupid mistake. It’s not like you murdered someone.

“Well,” she adds with a short, sarcastic laugh, “I guess the jury’s still out on that one.”

Oh, the gallows humor in our household now. Who knew Prentiss girls had it in them to be even a little bit funny?

Ashton drives me to Bayview and drops me off out front. “Keep your chin up,” she advises. “Don’t let that sanctimonious control freak get you down.”

“God, Ash. I did cheat on him, you know. He’s not unprovoked.”

She purses her lips in a hard line. “Still.”

I get out of the car and try to steel myself for the day. School used to be so easy. I belonged to everything without even trying. Now I’m barely hanging on to the edges of who I used to be, and when I catch my reflection in a window I hardly recognize the girl staring back at me. She’s in my clothes—the kind of formfitting top and tight jeans that Jake likes—but her hollow cheeks and dead eyes don’t match the outfit.