Fallen Crest Home (Fallen Crest High #6)(33)

I kept working.

She kept standing there.

Ignoring. That was the best defense sometimes, but after a full minute where I cleaned three other counters, Becky was still there. The ignoring tactic wasn’t working.

I tossed the rag into the sink and frowned. “What are you doing, Becky? I am not the Sam I was when we were friends. I am not passive. I don’t take shit.” My chest was getting tight. “I’m not nice anymore.”

Heather jumped in, quietly, “Yes, you are.”

“Not lately.” I threw her a look. This wasn’t her fight.

She held her hands up, leaning back on her stool.

Becky’s shoulders lifted as she drew in a breath. “Are you done?”

“No!” I yelled, then came out from behind the counter. “Follow me.” When we got behind the beer garden’s tent, I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?!”

“You’re one of my moments.”

“What?”

She looked down, and her voice quieted. “Adam asked me last year about my top five regrettable moments. You were one of them.”

I could only stare at her. I knew what she was talking about, and my God, I was having a hard time holding myself back. I closed my eyes. My blood boiled, and I began counting to ten.

1

2





3


4—“Are you kidding me?!”

Becky shrank back.

“Do you know what I went through our junior year? Do you have any idea?!” I held up a hand, all my fingers spread out. “Five people turned on me that year. My mom. My dad. My two best friends. My boyfriend. All of them left me!” I held up one finger on my other hand. “You were my sixth. You were my salvation, until the guy you had a crush on made you choose. You chose him over me.” My sixth finger curled in with the others. “You left me when I had no one.”

“That year was when you started dating Mason—”

“And thank God I screwed him!” I registered movement from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not anymore. “My family blew up that year, and yeah, I got another one. Mason and Logan became my family, and things have been just fine, but now you want back in?”

“Yes.”

Her voice was meek.

I backed away, shaking my head.

Her face twisted. “I am sorry, Sam. I really am.”

“But it’s too late. I let you back in. I gave you a second chance, and you chose him over me. Again.” I turned to go back, and Adam stood there, his gaze stricken. Cass, Mark, and so many others lined up behind him. I had to laugh. “You all came for the show? Well, sorry. Show’s over.” I moved forward, ready to bulldoze my way through, but they all moved aside. As I returned to my spot behind the counter, Mason waited for me. His eyes stopped me in my tracks, and that was when I knew.

I hadn’t been yelling at Becky just now.

I’d been yelling at my mother.





Petey stayed away. Thank God, but he was the only one.

I was still standing at the counter, unsure what to do, when Adam burst through the tent’s opening.

“Thank you.” His jaw clenched.

I looked up, feeling haunted. I didn’t ask for what.

“She’s been wanting your friendship back from the moment she knew she lost it. I’ve been telling her to let go. She wouldn’t, though. She kept hoping and praying. That’s why I worked it so you were at our engagement. She wanted that moment, because if there was ever a chance, I thought it would be there. You were at an event she’ll remember for the rest of her life. You won’t remember.” He scoured Mason with a look. “I’ve no doubt you’ll forget all about us when you move on to the big leagues, but she’ll remember.” He leaned over the counter, closer to me. “I helped take away some of that regret. She tried being your friend, and what’d you do in return? You spit on her. Fuck you, Samantha.”

“Hey.” Mason faced him squarely.

Heather still sat on her stool, watching me.

Adam’s finger came down hard on the counter. “From this day forward, I want you to have nothing to do with Rebecca. You got that?!”

Heather grunted, rotating her barstool so she faced Adam as well. “Are you insane?” she murmured.

His eyes were heated and dilated, and the tips of his ears were pink. He threw her a look. “Excuse me?”

“You.” Heather frowned at him. “Are you insane? That’s what I’m asking.”

“What?”

“What?” She mocked him in a huff before standing. “Who works here? Who came here? Who’s continued to seek the other one out? Who’s the one asking for friendship without doing a goddamn thing to earn it?”

She’d moved closer with each question. If she took another step forward, she would’ve been touching him. She angled her head up. She didn’t give a shit how he stood over her, literally looking down.

“You have nothing to do with Sam,” she told him. “Your girlfriend should have nothing to do with her. Not Sam. She’s not done anything to deserve your treatment, and you better thank the assholes Mason’s beat up in the last month because they’re the only reason you aren’t knocked unconscious right now.”