White Rabbit(68)

“I don’t…” Her mouth flaps open and shut, and then she shakes her head in disgust. “Fuck you! What are you even doing here, anyway? You and April aren’t friends, and you’re barely even related. What the hell do you care?”

“You saw April threaten Fox with a knife,” I persist, sharpening my tone, “and later, when you and Arlo went back to the cottage, you saw him look into the kitchen and shit his pants; but when I asked if you’d thought that meant Fox was dead, you said no. You thought it meant April was. Why? Why were you worried about her, when she was the one who was armed and dangerous?”

“Because,” she fumbles, her eyes going totally blank for one long second. “Because Fox is, like, eight times her size, and she’s built like a paper clip! She couldn’t get a knife through a block of cheese, let alone some guy’s chest.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about the fight she had with Peyton? Why didn’t you tell us it started because you ratted out Peyton and Fox, and that’s why the party broke up? Why did you leave all that stuff out?”

“Because … because of … Javi!” Lia turns to Sebastian, her eyes glossy and imploring. “You know him, Bash. He’s not a screwup—he just does dumb things sometimes so his friends will think he’s cool. It would literally kill my parents if my baby brother got in trouble because of drugs! I just … I didn’t want anyone to find out.”

I have to fold my arms to keep from launching into a sarcastic round of applause at her performance. “Oh, please. You didn’t want to get yourself in trouble with the cops, is more like it.”

Lia’s head snaps in my direction, like a rattlesnake. “You know, you can get the fuck right out of my house.”

“Just tell us the truth, Lia,” Sebastian mumbles, and she takes a step back.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” There’s a decidedly nasty ring to the question. “Bash Williams is asking someone to tell the truth? How about you tell the truth for once? And you can start by explaining why Rufus is wearing your shirt, and why he’s got a fucking hickey on his neck that wasn’t there earlier.” Too late, I clap a hand over my throat, and there’s a dreadful silence, a clock somewhere in the darkness chipping time away like fragments of bone. Lia arches a brow. “Oh, I’m sorry—did you really think no one could tell? Did you honestly think I never noticed the way you stared at him in the hallways at school? The way your voice changed every time you said his fucking name?”

Sebastian’s face goes utterly slack. “Lia—”

“Save it.” She tosses up a hand. “You know, I was shocked at first. And then I was like, ‘Damn, I guess that’s just how it is—no wonder we didn’t work out.’ But then you asked me to come back to you. You begged me.” Lia’s voice breaks. “You told me you loved me, you asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian whispers.

“You should’ve just told me that you’re gay! I might actually have understood, you know. It’s a hell of a lot easier to handle than ‘I love you, only I really don’t, so good-bye!’”

“It’s not that simple.” Sebastian’s hands are shaking, and I want to hold them. “I mean, I’m not sure what I am. I don’t—” He gives an anguished sigh, twisting the fabric of his shorts until the veins pop out on his arm. “You and me … we were real, Lia; I was into you for real. I never lied about what I felt when we were together, but I … when I’m with Rufus, it feels right. That’s real, too. He makes me happy, and it’s, like, I know who I am when I’m with him—who I wanna be. And I am so, so sorry, because I should’ve never said those things to you. It was wrong and … and unfair. I don’t know how else to explain it. I was really scared, and I thought I could change how I really felt—about both of you—and … you didn’t deserve that. I’m really sorry.”

He’s crying by the time he’s finished, and with a start I realize that Lia is, too. “Fuck,” she says, her voice raw as she backhands tears from her cheek. “Now I wish you’d just stuck with ‘I love you, only really I don’t.’ It’d be easier to hate you.” She lifts her chin, then, a flinty look in her puffy eyes. “I’m not forgiving you, okay? You’re a shithead, and I’m not letting you off the hook. But … I get it.”

There’s a long, weird silence—our lives shifting and resettling momentously around us—as we realize that their brief exchange has fundamentally altered the way we’ll all see one another from now on. Lia wipes her eyes, sniffles, and finally announces, “I drugged April.”

“What?” I stare, almost hearing an actual needle scratch.

“That’s the reason I didn’t say anything about how the night ended—that and Javi.” She slumps against the wall. “When she found out about Fox and Peyton, April lost every last scrap of her shit. She broke a bottle on Peyton’s face, shoved her into a wall, and started screaming stuff; she pulled that knife on Fox … and then she threatened to call the police.”

“She was going to report him for cheating on her?” I ask, confused.

“For the drugs, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes. “She was in crush-kill-destroy mode, and she wouldn’t be talked down from it—believe me, I tried—and nobody needed the cops to show up. We’d all been drinking; Fox, Race, and Peyton had been doing coke; and there were white rabbits everywhere. Even if we somehow got the place cleaned up, April was more than ready to narc anyway, just to see Fox burn. So … I spiked her vodka–Red Bull with prescription cough syrup when she wasn’t looking.