A Need So Beautiful (A Need So Beautiful #1)(25)

There’s a knock at the door and I jump.

“Hurry up,” Sarah calls. “Alex just got home from school and he’s starting to piss me off out here.”

“One sec,” I answer automatically. When Sarah’s here, I have to forget about this. I have to cover it up. I’m still Charlotte Cassidy. I’m still me.

I turn on the hot water. I can’t wash where my stitches are, and I’m scared to get water on my . . . shoulder. So I reach my hand in and grab the washcloth, wetting it and then running it under my arms. I wash myself like this and then use my fingers to comb my hair, trying to work out the dried blood. When I’m finished, I turn off the water. It’s not great, but it’s better.

I finish up with brushing my teeth and then gather the top of my hair into a barrette to cover the stitches. Lip gloss. Earrings. I look almost normal as I slide my arms into my fleece robe, because I certainly can’t walk out in a towel. Not when part of me is missing.

Quietly, I creak open the bathroom door and peer out. Down the hall I can see Sarah’s school uniform, the skirt too short, as she leans against the kitchen counter, bitching at Alex. They’re arguing about whether or not her bag is a knockoff. It’s definitely not. Alex just likes to irritate her.

I tiptoe out and then bolt for my room, closing the door and locking it so I can get dressed. I tear through my closet, needing something thick enough to hide the light. I find a gray wool sweater and slip it over my head. Then I grab some jeans and pull them on before stuffing my feet into a pair of boots. A little overdressed for a semi-warm fall day, but it’ll do.

One more glance in the mirror, and then I make my way to the kitchen. Sarah turns and sees me.

“Jesus, Charlotte. Going hiking on Mount Hood?”

Alex leans over the counter and laughs at Sarah’s joke as I step out of the hallway.

“Oh, shut up,” I say, and grab a piece of toast from Alex’s plate.

“You’re cranky,” he says. “And after I let you sleep in all day. Not very nice. Besides, why were you sneaking out barefoot this morning?”

“What?” Sarah asks, glaring at me.

I stiffen. So he did notice. Well, nice job, Alex. “I think I was still half-asleep,” I say. “I came back and crashed.”

“So mysterious,” Sarah mutters, and straightens up. “By the way, Harlin called me while you were in the shower. Wants to come meet us. But I told him we’d be at my house and he could pick you up later.”

“Harlin?” I suddenly realize that I miss him. Like, ache-in-my-chest miss him.

“Uh, yeah. Harlin. You know, that guy you hook up with all the time? The misunderstood bad-boy type?” She laughs.

Alex joins in the pretend explanation. “He’s hot, sort of moody. Always wears a motorcycle jacket. Any of this ringing a bell?”

I smile. “Sounds vaguely familiar.” I toss the half-eaten toast down on Alex’s plate as he scoffs. “Now, if you two comedians are done?”

“Great, let’s go.” Sarah takes me by the arm as I wave good-bye to Alex. When we’re out in the hallway, Sarah turns to me. “I need your help,” she says.

“With?”

“I want you to go through my closet with me. I’m looking for the perfect screw-you dress to wear to this weekend’s charity ball.”

“Charity ball? Glad you’re going for the right reasons.”

She flashes a devilish smile. “What better reason than revenge?”

Chapter 10

Sarah lives on the twenty-first floor of a high-rise condo next to the river. It’s posh and overpriced, but then again, it’s also part of her father’s multimillion-dollar real estate enterprise. The minute we walk in, she drags me to her room. I asked to borrow her phone so that I could call Harlin, but Sarah said I’d have to wait until after we played dress-up. She didn’t want my hormones interfering with my train of thought.

“Okay,” I say, lying across the red chaise at the end of her bed. “Let’s get this over with.” Sarah goes into her closet—which is as big as my entire bedroom—and pulls out an armful of dresses. I groan. “Can I call Harlin now?”

“No.” She puts little effort into sympathizing with me missing my boyfriend. “This?” She puts a short yellow dress against her.

“Not unless you’re trying to be Big Bird.”

“Hate you.” She throws the yellow dress back toward her closet and starts fingering through the other garments in her arms. When I see she’s properly distracted by her friends Chanel, Dior, and Dolce & Gabbana, I reach over and grab the phone off her dresser. It’s already ringing by the time she looks over.

Sorry, I mouth, and then smile as I hold the phone to my ear. She sighs loudly and tosses the pile of dresses on me before going back into her closet. I laugh and lay them out on her bed.

“So you’re alive?” Harlin’s voice is low and very controlled. It reminds me of the way he talks to his mother. I don’t like it.

“I meant to call, but—”

“I talked to Alex a hundred times this morning, but you couldn’t call me back? I was worried. I thought you’d slipped into a coma or something.”

“Comforting thought.”

“It’s not funny. You got hit by a car last night.”