Secret Lucidity(12)

“You know what I mean.”

I don’t say anything as I try to temper the anger that’s flaring in my chest. Three months and I’m expected to move on. This wasn’t just some breakup or a death of a pet. This was my father. My hero. My blood and bone.

She walks over to me. “You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you. All of us have.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me tonight.” She takes my hand and swings it between us as the smile on her face grows. “Pleeeease.”

I know her well enough to know that she’s not going to stop. And now that she’s forced her way into my room, I’m going to be hard-pressed to get her to leave.

“Come on, Cam. One party. That’s all I’m asking.”

“You know you’re forcing me against my will, right?”

“Is that a yes?”

With a loathing sigh, I give in. “I’ll go.”

Her smile grows even wider. “This is going to be so much fun!”

I grind my teeth against her unrealistic expectations. I’m the least fun person in this town at this point. But I keep my mouth shut and go through the movements of getting dressed and applying concealer in an attempt to cover the scar that runs the span of my cheek. No matter how much makeup I apply, there’s no hiding it completely.

“It’ll be dark out there. I doubt anyone will notice,” Linze remarks when she peeks her head into the bathroom.

Easy for her to say. If this scar were on her face, she wouldn’t leave her room until she had a round of plastic surgery to remove the flaw. But I don’t expect her to understand, so I don’t even bother saying anything about it.

“You ready?”

With a shrug, I grab my car keys out of my purse.

“You’re not going to ride with me?”

“In case I want to leave early, I don’t want to take you away from the party.” It’s a lie. Really, the thought of someone else driving terrifies me. I’m nervous anyway when I get behind the wheel, but there’s a sense of comfort knowing I’m in control of the car.

She opens the door, and I follow her down the stairs.

“Go ahead,” I tell her when she walks to the entryway. “I need to tell my mom where I’m going. I’ll meet you outside.”

She aims a finger at me. “No bailing on me,” she jokes.

“Give me one minute, okay?”

She walks out, and I close the door, relieved that she didn’t see my mother in her state of drunkenness. Everyone knows my mother to be a fashionable woman who always has herself pulled together. If anyone saw her half-passed out on the couch, they’d be shocked—and I’d be mortified.

“Mom.” She doesn’t respond as she lies on her stomach with her eyes closed. I shake her shoulder and talk a pitch louder to wake her. “Mom.”

“Hmm . . .”

“I’m going out with Linze. The pizza hasn’t come yet, so you need to wake up.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back later. Text me if you need anything.”

She sits up, struggling for alertness, and does her best to look me in the eyes when she says, “Don’t drink.”

“You know I don’t drink.”

“I mean it. Don’t. I can’t lose . . . I can’t—”

“I know, Mom.” For the first time in a long time, my heart warms, and I don’t feel so forgotten. “I promise you, I won’t do anything like that.”

She nods, and I leave the moment her emotions surface. If I stay to see her heartbreak, I run the risk of my own protective shell cracking.

With one hand on the wheel and my other strapped in my sling, I follow behind Linze as we drive down the vacant country road, past Waterloo where nothing but abandoned fields reside. Billowing clouds of gray smoke against the black sky guide the way, and I veer the car to the side of the road. When I open my door, laughter and music steal the silence.

“You came,” Kroy calls out as he approaches me.

“I was able to work my magic,” Linze gloats.

“More like ambush me.”

“Either way, you’re here.” He grabs me in his arms, excited to see me, and I flinch when he puts too much pressure on my arm. “Sorry, babe.”

“It’s okay.”

“When do you get to take it off?”

“Now,” I tell him. “I put it on because it’s really sore after my physical therapy I did earlier today.”

“I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me you got it off?”

“Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It’s a huge deal. It means you can get back into the pool and start building your strength to compete.”

His expectations of me strike annoyance. Getting into the pool is the last thing I want to do.

“Kyle says practices start on Monday,” Linze tells me, and she’s just as oblivious to my mood as Kroy is.

I nod and start walking toward the bonfire, avoiding the discussion of swimming.

“He asked to take me out tomorrow night,” she says.

“Who?”

“Kyle.”