Lies You Never Told Me(70)

Placated, she leans against my arm.

I’m keeping my part of the bargain. I hold her hand in the hallway. I carry her books for her. I wait obediently by her locker while she gossips and combs her hair. I do all this even though I can hear the snickering and whispering all around us. I try not to look at their expressions as we walk past; I try to keep my head straight ahead. Everything’s back to a superficial kind of normal. She even called the cops to drop the charges she’d brought against me. “It was all a misunderstanding,” she cooed, meeting my eyes as she cradled the phone to her ear. Of course they’re still investigating me for arson—but she likes that. It makes me seem like a bad boy. It makes her parents hate me even more.

My parents are more baffled than angry. “I don’t understand why you’d want to be with someone who did all the things you said she did,” my dad said when he found out, shaking his head.

“Why would you risk it?” my mom put in. “She went to the police about you. You can’t afford to get on the cops’ radar, mijo. There are people who will assume that you’re a criminal just because of the color of your skin. They’ll take Sasha’s side over yours every time. This girl is dangerous for you.”

They don’t understand that I’m doing this for them. That I’m trying to keep them safe.

Them, and Catherine.

Though Catherine might be well out of Sasha’s grasp by now. She hasn’t been at school in a month, and I can’t seem to get any information on where she is. I logged into Sekrit on my new phone as soon as I got it, and I sent her half a dozen messages, but she hasn’t responded to any. I had Caleb drive me past her house a few days after the fire—it’s a wreck, a burned-out ruin with police tape across the door. So they’re staying somewhere else, obviously. But where? I look back at my last few messages.


daredevil_atx: I just want to know that you’re ok.

daredevil_atx: I’m so sorry about everything.

daredevil_atx: I love you.

The silence is resounding. It speaks volumes. I’ve given up. Just like I’ve given up on ever getting free of Sasha.

Sasha’s hair’s still dark, but at least she’s not straightening it anymore. She’s back to dressing like her old self, like she fell straight out of an Instagram account. She smirks up at me now.

“Too bad Irene and Caleb couldn’t come,” she says. “They always eat like pigs.”

“Mmm,” I say. She’s testing me; she wants me to stand up for them, to tell her to be nice, so she can accuse me of siding with them. I’m not going to rise to the bait.

“Or is Irene finally on a diet?” she persists.

Irene is currently as far from this restaurant as she can be. She made clear that she was done with my Sasha drama. “You’re nuts,” she’d seethed. “You cannot get back with that psycho. I’m so over this shit, Gabe.”

Caleb was a little more sympathetic, but not very reassuring. “How long can you keep this up? I mean, she’s either gonna kill you or marry you sooner or later, man.” The thought makes me squirm in my seat, even now. I can’t think about the future, or I’ll lose my nerve.

All I can do is keep her happy, here, now.

She raises a morsel of brisket to my lips, and I open my mouth mechanically and accept the treat like a dog.

“There you go,” she says. “That’s not so bad, is it?”

It is, Sasha. It’s the worst thing. This is the worst possible thing, and it’s all thanks to you.

A few of Sasha’s friends make their way to our table and heave themselves onto the seats, looking exhausted. Marjorie Chin’s pinned-on cowgirl hat is listing to one side; Natalie McAfee is covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

“It’s crazy this year,” Natalie says, fanning herself with a paper plate. “I’ve never seen it so busy.”

“How much did we make?” Sasha asks.

“Just under five thousand so far. We’ll definitely be able to get new costumes for the spring concert.” Natalie smiles at me. “How’s the food? I haven’t been able to get any yet.”

“Here.” I shove my plate at her. “Have mine. I’m full.”

She glances at Sasha, and I realize she’s asking permission. After a moment Sasha gives an almost imperceptible nod, and Natalie picks at my food.

“How’re you doing, Gabe?” Marjorie asks. “I mean, after the fire and everything?” I see curiosity in her eyes, and something else. Pity. The tiniest glimmer of it. Everyone knows I’m Sasha’s bitch. Everyone knows she’s won.

“Never better, Mags,” I say, summoning up my jauntiest tone. “Turns out chicks love reckless heroics. Right, baby?” I kiss the side of Sasha’s head. If I’m going to put on a show, I’m going to do it right.

Sasha giggles. “Oh, we’re calling it heroic now? I thought you were still wanted for arson or whatever.”

Marjorie’s eyes widen slightly, though I know her surprise is as much an act as my good mood is. Sasha’s made damn sure everyone knows the cops have been sniffing around. Just another way to keep people talking; another way to keep me humiliated.

“Not technically,” I say carelessly, as if it’s all a big joke. “I’m just being investigated. There’s a difference.”