One Small Thing(33)

I bend my head to mop up my tears with the sleeve of my T-shirt. The action means I can’t look at him, and that’s a good thing. I don’t want to see his face right now.

“I get it,” I murmur. I still won’t look at him, though.

“But the only way to move forward is to put it behind us. It didn’t mean anything, right?”

A whimper slips out. I bite hard on my bottom lip and valiantly try not to cry again.

“Beth,” he says in frustration.

I stare straight ahead.

“Fucking hell, Beth. What do you want to do?” Chase stumbles to his feet and starts pacing the pavement. The shards of light from above emphasize the agitated crease in his forehead. “You want to start going out? Hook up again? I went to fucking jail for killing your sister.”

My face collapses. My shoulders sag, unable to support the weight of guilt bearing down on them. “I’m a terrible person,” I whisper.

His blond head snaps toward me. “What? You’re not.”

“Yeah. I am.” I don’t bother wiping my tears anymore. I let them stream down my cheeks and dribble off my chin. “I’m the slut who slept with my sister’s killer.”

“You didn’t know,” he says roughly. “And you’re not a slut. No girl is for having sex or liking it.”

I know this, but... I weakly meet his gaze. “Then why do I feel like one?”

He has no answer for that. He doesn’t try to comfort me. Doesn’t move toward me, touch me. He simply stands there, staring at me with regret in his eyes. I stare back, wondering what he sees when he looks at me. Wondering why I can look at him without wanting vengeance for what he did to Rachel.

Pain slices through my heart. Rachel. God, why did she have to die? I miss her. I really... I banish those thoughts to that steel-walled dungeon in the very back of my heart. Thinking about Rachel is pointless. It just hurts to do it. And missing her won’t bring her back. It won’t change the fact that this boy in front of me is the reason my sister isn’t here.

“Are you even sorry?” I find myself blurting.

He looks startled. “What? For what happened Saturday? I—”

“No,” I interrupt. “For what happened three years ago.”

Stunned silence crashes over the darkened street. Chase runs a hand through his hair again, the movement quick and stilted. His gaze drops to his scuffed sneakers and I can see his chest rise and fall in a quick rhythm, as if he’s breathing hard.

Still he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t answer the question. A stupid question, really. Because even if he’s not sorry, it’s not like he’s going to admit it.

The silence drags on, finally broken by the sound of an engine. Two huge spotlights point at Chase’s back, blinding me. I stand up. Chase quickly moves to the side to allow the taxi to pull up to the curb.

“Beth?” the driver asks after rolling down his window.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s me.” Without acknowledging Chase, I open the car door and slide into the back seat.

Before I can close the door, Chase steps forward.

“Beth,” he says gruffly.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “What?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

He visibly swallows. “Yes, I’m sorry for three years ago. More than you will ever know.”

My eyes start stinging again. I tear my gaze off Chase and address the driver. “Can we please go?”

He steps on the gas and we leave Chase in the rearview mirror.





14

To my complete and total shock, Jeff is waiting on the curb when I arrive at my house.

“Where have you been?” he whispers, grabbing my arm and dragging me away from the front walk.

I jerk out of his grip, still stunned at the sight of him. “What do you mean? Where should I have been? You left me on the street!”

“I went back, and you weren’t there,” he accuses.

My head pounds. “I have to get inside. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I’m not sure how I’m going to sell this to my parents, but I’m going to have to try.

He grabs me again before I can leave. “You can’t go inside. I already covered for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I called them after I couldn’t find you and told them you fell asleep in the family room and I didn’t think I should wake you up.” He points angrily to his Audi parked half a block down. “Come on. You’re crashing at my house and I’m driving you to school in the morning. That’s what I told your parents is happening.”

I rub my fingers in my eyes, trying to sort out my feelings. Confusion is my default state these days. I sift through my choices, but Jeff’s right—his plan is the best one, because that’s the one my parents are supposedly on board with.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

He arches a brow. “You’re not going to thank me?”

My jaw drops. “Thank you? You left me in Lincoln!”

“Keep your voice down,” he orders sharply, but his eyes have softened. “I know I did, and I’m sorry. I really am. I just can’t control my temper when it comes to that killer.”

I don’t entirely forgive him—I could have been seriously hurt tonight, thanks to Jeff abandoning me—but it’s too late and I’m too hungover to have this argument. So I nod and mumble, “Whatever, it’s fine. Let’s just get out of here.”