All the Rage(38)

“No, just think about it,” he says and I shut my mouth, but I can’t make myself think about it. Maybe I got drunk, but I didn’t leave my shift to get that way, Leon. And everything that happened after—I didn’t leave for that, either. “You’ve got people in there who want to give you the benefit of the doubt because they can’t believe you’d do something like that in the first place. You’re not making it easy tonight, Romy.”

“Neither is she,” I say.

“She doesn’t owe you that. And she’s not the only one you’re making it hard for.”

He’s angry with me. No. Is this where I lose Leon? I don’t want to lose Leon. He’s the boy who stopped and I’m the girl he stopped for and what happens to her, if he goes away?

“Oh,” I say.

I press my hands against my face and split myself in two. Push away the side that’s the truth because that’s the side that wants to be angry at him for how wrong he is because of all the things he doesn’t know. I focus on the side I’ve shown to him. There’s so much missing, but it’s better that it’s missing. And as long as it’s missing, that makes everything he’s saying to me now—right. I take a breath.

“You’re right.” I lower my hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”


My apology turns him so relieved, like he was worried I’d make this a bigger fight, worried this was going to be the part where I’d lose him too.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

“You’re right again.”

He moves a little closer. “You going to be okay?”

“Sure.” We stare at each other and there’s something about the concern in his eyes that makes me want to shake myself off. Just because he’s not angry anymore doesn’t mean I’ve fixed this yet, the way it needs to be fixed. “Just ask about Penny if you want to know.”

“But you don’t want to tell me,” he says. “Because you didn’t tell me.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Well, I can’t force you, and if you don’t—you don’t. But you should know it’d be a weird thing between us. And I wouldn’t like it.”

No, he wouldn’t. I don’t have to tell him, but my not telling him would leave this uncomfortably open, wanting us to return to it, whether or not we ever did. And probably ending us, if we don’t. So I definitely need to lie now.

“I told you we were close, me and Penny.”

“But you didn’t tell me she was here that night.”

“Because she’s not my friend anymore. I mean, we hate each other.” I cross my arms. “In junior year, we had a falling out over a … boy.”

Boy. Tastes like blood to say it.

“She came to the diner on Friday to make sure I—”

The unfinished lie falls from my tongue. To make sure—what? To make sure I … I see Penny at the diner there, her mouth moving, and those things she said to me. I can’t, won’t, give them voice. I force the memory away. I reach for the pettiest thing I can think of because no one has a hard time believing how petty a girl can be.

“To make sure I wasn’t going to the lake later. That’s how bad it is between us. I could bring down an entire party for her just by being there. It made me so mad she came in to my work, got in my space and ruined my night, I thought I’d return the favor. I went to the lake to do that. It’s not a nice story. Especially now. And that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Leon’s face falls a little as he thinks about it, and maybe I’m not so in the clear after all. Who wants to be with a petty girl? It strikes a fear in me I try not to show.

“I didn’t know she’d go missing,” I say.

“Well—no,” he says. “You couldn’t have.”

“I hate thinking about it because now she’s gone, I see—” I have to redeem myself, but these words taste like blood to say too: “I see … how awful I was.”

His expression softens. “Well, Penny doesn’t seem all that nice in this story, either.” He pauses. “I could talk to Holly, if you want.”

I’m capable of having my own conversations, but this whole night is wearing on me. It’s barely started and I’m tired and I don’t know that I could tell the same lie half as well, especially to Holly. Leon might.

“Would you?” I ask.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute and I’ll lay it out for her,” he says.

He turns to the door and I say, “Leon,” and he turns back and looking at him— I need to tell him something that’s true.

I want something between us that’s true.

“I like you,” I say. “I didn’t mean to make it hard for you to like me back.”

He hesitates, and then—he moves to me and kisses the side of my mouth before disappearing back inside. It happens so fast, my heart barely realizes it at first, but when it does, it’s like some small part of my world has righted itself.

I’m still her.

When I’m about to go in, the door opens and Holly comes out, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips. I stand there awkwardly while she lights up. She doesn’t speak to or look at me until after that first, long drag. She savors it.