One Small Thing(23)

“Oh my God. He should go to jail while that’s being done instead of sitting here with us.”

“What if there are bodies back there? Can he be tried again? What about that double-double thing?”

I can’t take it any longer.

“Shut up!” I roar at my classmates.

Silence crashes over the room. At the front, Mrs. Russell turns around in alarm.

“Elizabeth,” she says in a soft tone reserved for hysterical children. “Please sit down.”

Sit down? I didn’t even realize I was standing. I guess I jumped out of my chair. Everyone is staring at me. Except for Chase. He’s staring straight ahead at Mrs. Russell. I swear I see a tic in his jaw, though, as if he’s trying very hard to keep his composure.

Scar’s hand reaches for mine. “Shut up, you guys. You’re making this harder on Lizzie than it already is.” She tugs. “Sit down, Lizzie.”

She thinks I just yelled at the entire class because their whispered gossip and accusations were upsetting me.

I yelled because the whispers were upsetting him.

Helplessness lodges in my throat. I let Scar pull me down to my chair and then clasp my shaky hands together on my desk. “I’m sorry,” I tell Mrs. Russell. “I’m fine now.”

She eyes me for a moment before nodding. “Let’s focus on our assignment, everyone. Since you have so much energy, Mr. Kendall, you can come up and do the first problem.”

Looking sheepish, Troy gets to his feet and walks over to the blackboard. The class quiets down. For the rest of the period, I don’t pay much attention. I just sit there and try not to cry.

*

The moment AP Calc is over, I go to my locker even though I don’t need anything from it. But my next class is Physics, and Scarlett’s in that class, too, and I don’t want to walk with her. She gave me so many sympathetic looks and arm squeezes this past hour that I need a break.

I rest my forehead against the locker and wonder how and when my life got so out of control. Well, when Rachel died, obviously. Three years of dealing with my helicopter parents have completely worn me down. But I feel like in these past days, I’ve been more powerless and upset than in those three years combined.

This is what I get for trying to rebel. I wanted one night. One fun, amazing night before summer ended and school started. One night where I didn’t have to think about my dead sister or my overprotective parents. One night where I could be whoever I wanted to be without the dark cloud of my sister’s accident hanging over my head.

Well, I got what I wanted. I went to a party where nobody knew me, nobody knew Rachel. I got away from my parents and could finally breathe, even if it was only for a few hours. I had fun. I met a boy. I liked that boy. I really, really did.

And now everything is a big fat mess and all I want to do is bawl.

I draw a deep breath. I won’t cry. I’m stronger than that. I’m just going to go to class and—

A large hand grabs my arm and twists me around.

“Hey!” I object. “What—” The words die when I realize it’s Chase. “What do you want?” I ask weakly. So much for being strong. One second in his presence and my hands are shaking and my pulse is thudding in my ears.

He gives an incredulous laugh. “What do I want? I came over here to ask what the hell you want.”

I blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you invite me over to your house. You stand up for me in class—”

“I didn’t stand up for you,” I cut in, but I think he knows I’m lying. I wanted everyone to stop saying mean things about him back there. That’s why I told them to shut up.

“Stop sticking your nose in my business, Beth. I can handle whatever they throw at me.”

Can he? “Can you?”

“Yes, I can. Trust me, I’ve dealt with a lot worse. You think a bunch of high school bullies scare me?” He laughs humorlessly. “I spent three years in juvie with actual criminals. You think Troy’s the first one to think of Manson as a nickname? These are kids’ games here.”

I shouldn’t feel sorry for him, but I do. “Can we...please talk about all this?”

His dark blond eyebrows crash together. “Talk about what?” Frustration rings in his tone. “Fuck, Beth, what’s your problem? There’s no reason for us to talk, okay? We’re not friends and we’re never going to be friends. We can’t. Your sister’s dead because of me.”

My eyelids start to sting.

He lowers his voice. “We had sex, all right. Big deal. It’s not like either of us were virgins or anything—”

A strangled sound flies out of my mouth.

I hope, no, I pray, that he doesn’t notice, but one thing I’ve learned about Chase—he doesn’t miss a thing. Maybe he learned to be this vigilant in juvie because he constantly had to keep his guard up, or maybe it’s a skill he’s always had. Either way, his blue eyes narrow on my face.

“Beth...” His voice is slightly hoarse. He clears his throat. Swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs a little. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

It’s his turn to make a choked noise. Then he slams one hand on the locker behind me. I jolt at the unexpected sound, but I’m not afraid of him getting violent toward me.