Secret Lucidity(48)

“Why? I mean, I totally get how you were feeling this summer, but—”

“But what?”

It takes him a moment of pause before saying, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” It’s a lie that comes much too quickly, one I shouldn’t have said because I shouldn’t lead him on.

“I don’t think you do.”

“Kroy . . .”

“I feel like you’re slipping away. Aside from our one class together at school, I never see you. You hide away instead of spending lunch with me, our conversations feel nonexistent—”

“Don’t do this.”

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

He shifts and turns square toward me on the couch. “I mean you’re never around anymore. Every time I pass by your house, your car is gone. I drove by every day this break, and today was the first time your car was there.”

“So now you’re spying on me?” I question, growing defensive and also nervous, knowing he’s checking up on me.

“We live in the same neighborhood, Cam. I wouldn’t exactly call it spying.”

“What is it that you’re wanting from me?”

“I don’t know.” His words are a huff of frustration. “Maybe I’m just sick of feeling like I’m on the outside when I’ve practically spent my whole life with you.”

“Why can’t I just be alone?”

“You are alone. That’s the problem. Because I don’t want you to be alone, because I want to be with you, because I miss you.” His words come out dripping in desperation for us to go back in time.

But we can’t.

And now that I have David, I don’t think I’d want to go back to when it was easy with Kroy even if we could.

“Where are you when you’re not at home?”

I try to hide my hesitation before spoon-feeding him more lies. “I’m just out. I’m anywhere that isn’t there,” I tell him. “Even when my mom is gone, it’s not an easy place for me to be. There isn’t a single room in that house that doesn’t hold memories of my dad. So, I leave. Sometimes I go to the library, sometimes I go to the mall, and sometimes I just drive.”

“You know you can always call me or come over here.”

“That’s the thing . . .” I take a second before continuing. “I just want to be alone.” It’s a blatant lie he can’t see through. It used to be the truth, but now I’d rather be with David than anywhere else. I choose him over loneliness. “I’m not trying to hurt you, but I need to do this on my own.”

“Do you know how hard it is not to be the one helping you?”

“I guess, in a weird way, you are helping. It’s just not in the way you want.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t say a single word.

“Maybe I should go,” I offer, and he doesn’t even try to stop me when I grab my coat and leave.

I walk home, the same walk I’ve walked since I was a little girl, but this time, it’s so apparent that Kroy isn’t the boy of my dreams the way he used to be. And the friendship we once had might not survive my deceit. I can already feel the wedge between us, probably more so than he does because I’m the one forcing us apart with my duplicity.

I’ll carry the blame though.

I’ll take the hit.

I’ll accept whatever the outcome of us may be if it means I don’t have to lose him.





IT TAKES ME LONGER THAN usual to get out of the house this morning. My reflection stares back at me while I fan my hand over my cheek to dry the foundation before I apply a second coat. The bright red bruising is still evident, and now I look even worse with all this makeup caked on my face.

I toss my sponge brush into the sink and then scrub all the foundation off my face.

Great. Another reason for people to stare at me.

As I make my way from one class to another, I do what I can to hide my bruise behind my long hair. Second period with Kroy is tense. He barely speaks two words to me, still upset about yesterday. I don’t want to push him, so I keep my distance and focus on taking notes to prepare for finals.

After third period, I make my way to English. You’d think I’d be happy to see David, but truth be told, I’m worried about how he will react to seeing the assault on my face.

I keep my head down as I weave through the crowded halls, and when I rush to beat the bell, I run smack into another student, sending my armful of books to the ground.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” my old friend says when I squat down in front of the classroom door.

I gather my books, muttering to Linze, “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention.”

The bell rings, and she bends over to grab my notebook that’s out of my reach and hands it to me.

“Everything okay, girls?” David inquires when he steps out into the hall, distracting Linze from me.

She scurries off into the classroom, and when I stand, David grabs my arm. I quickly turn my head away from him, but it’s too late.

“What happened to your face?” he questions, taking in the red lashing. “Look at me.”

And I do, only to be met with menacing eyes.