People Like Us(42)

“Let’s talk about cheating, Kay. You love to play the victim. Poor heartbroken Kay. Torn to pieces by Spencer’s betrayal. Except it didn’t go down like that, did it? You did it to him first. In his own bed. And your new best friend? I’m sure she’d love to know some of the things you said about her when she first got here. Then there’s Jessica Lane. There are only three people in the world who had a motive to kill her. Her ex-boyfriend, the guy she cheated with, and you. And you’re unraveling, Kay.”

I can’t listen to another word or take another pair of eyes on me. I turn around and run.



* * *



? ? ?

IT WAS THE first house party of the school year. I had spent the summer at soccer camp and hadn’t seen Brie or Spencer since June. We were all drinking, and Justine and Spencer were getting high outside when Brie and I decided it would be funny to switch our clothes. We went into Spencer’s room, and the narrow stairs up to his attic bedroom had made me dizzy, so I sat down on the bed.

She lay down next to me to kick her sneakers off.

His ceiling had glow-in-the dark stars on it and there was classic rock music pounding from downstairs—the song “7” by Prince—and Brie started singing in a breathless voice as she struggled with her sneaker.

We had slept side by side so many nights, but there was only this particular moment, in this bed that was the worst possible bed to be in together, with the stars swirling with alcohol, and the shoes that wouldn’t come off. And the music and the urgency of Spencer and Justine outside smoking. Before I had a chance to catch my breath, her lips were on mine and we were kissing each other fast and hard, because we knew we were playing with fire. There was an invisible timer running down. Her shirt came off and her bra got stuck, and the clock penalized us. She stopped to laugh at my old-lady underwear when she was pulling my jeans down over my knees.

And that’s what the clock didn’t forgive.

Because that’s the moment Spencer walked in.

Everything had been moving at hyperspeed, and then it skipped and slowed. Spencer closed the door behind him and slid down to the floor against it and just looked at me, his eyes pink and glazed. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was falling in his eyes and I realized I was never going to be allowed to touch him or kiss him again, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Because that was exactly how Megan’s and Todd’s deaths finally hit me. I could remember them any damn way I wanted, but they would never be tangible. They could never be proven. I could never touch them again.

I started to hyperventilate, my pulse and mind racing sickeningly fast. Brie pulled my hand into hers and I yanked it away. She looked at me like I’d slapped her in the face and asked me what I wanted and I just kept saying I wanted another chance. She finally got up and left without a word, and Spencer sat down next to me and asked me if I loved him.

I told him the truth, yes, how could I not?

He asked if I still loved Brie.

And I lied, no, it’s impossible to love two people.

He held me and stroked my hair until I could breathe again, and he lied, too, and said we would somehow be okay.





13


The next day, I can’t bear the thought of facing anyone and escape to the Cat Café to study alone in the corner, armed with an open tab of coffee. It’s a little uncomfortable being surrounded by nothing but images and statues of cats now, and it feels almost like they are grinning down like grotesque, mocking Cheshire Cats, taunting me. But this is the place I have always come to unwind, and Hunter’s unfortunate demise is not going to change that. It’s not like I killed him. I’m very sorry he is dead, and even sorrier for Dr. Klein, but I am not giving up my perfect meeting spot because of it. I force myself to focus on my homework, and I make it until noon until my steady intake of caffeine forces a pee break.

As I’m returning from the bathroom, wiping my hands on my jeans due to the incompetent air dryer, I hear an unwelcome but familiar voice behind me.

“If it isn’t Katie Donovan, the femme fatale of Bates Academy.”

I turn with dread to see Spencer leaning against the men’s room door. He wears his customary grin and his hair is carefully mussed, but he actually looks tired for once. As he stifles a yawn, I notice shadows under his eyes. His cheeks look a little hollow. Maybe the last few weeks have been wearing on him, too. Maybe he’s not unbreakable.

I head back to my table and he follows me. “What are you doing on my side of town? Got another date?”

“Probably.”

I shake my head. “You’re the worst.”

“Debatable.” He takes one of my empty coffee cups and tips it over his mouth, catching two cold drops.

“Well, this has been fun, but I actually have to study, Spence.”

He slaps his phone down on the table and rests his chin on his hands. “You said you wanted to talk.”

I blink. “That was ages ago. And it ended with you throwing me out of your car.”

“And then you emailed me, and as usual, I come running like an asshole.”

I purse my lips. He’s messing with me again, and after last night, I am done with people telling me I’m crazy. “I didn’t email you.”

His cocky smile begins to fade. “You didn’t ask me to meet you?”

“No.”