My skin prickles with unease. Shane and Ethan have talked about me?
“He did? What else did he say?”
“Nothing.” After a pause, he adds lightly, “It’s Shane. Since he moved out, he’s never exactly talkative, is he? The best I hope for with him is four-word phrases.”
I grimace. Oh, so not really a conversation then. I’m relieved, but also sad for them. Once upon a time, they were close. “Maybe things will get better,” I say brightly. “He was actually okay to me. He may finally be letting things go.”
“Maybe,” Ethan says, but his tone isn’t hopeful.
“So can you send me his number?”
“I think it’s better that you don’t push him. Why don’t you wait until you bump into him again and play it by ear?”
Normally that would be good advice. Shane crushed my feelings under the heel of his boot every time I tried to reach out to him during his senior year. And my mom and stepdad had to watch me crumble into tears on more than one occasion.
Things are different now, though. I don’t expect to be his friend. I wouldn’t even want to be after the filthy deal he pushed me into making. Sex for a safe place to stay? It’s pretty vile.
“Okay, Dad. No worries. I’ll probably see him soon. I’ve been getting out more lately.”
“Not alone though, right?”
“No. I’m—um—trying to make some new friends. I’m being careful.”
“Good.” He exhales. “I know you’re a level-headed young woman. I just remember when you were a whimsical fifteen-year-old. Not that there was anything wrong with that either,” he adds hastily.
Ethan is never anything but completely supportive and wonderful to me. At the moment, it makes me feel guilty. Ethan lost Shane because of my mom and me. In his place, I doubt I could be so nice.
“I wish the world wasn’t such a grim place,” Ethan continues. “You should be able to walk anywhere you want at any time of the day or night without having to look over your shoulder.”
I change the topic. “I saw the verdict on the Palmer case. Congratulations!”
“You saw it at Granthorpe?” he asks, surprised. “I wouldn’t think alumni news would make the front page, considering the story they’re covering right now.”
He means Casanova. I do not want to talk about that psycho since that’s another secret I’m keeping.
“It wasn’t on my home page. I looked it up. How did you win it? It seemed so impossible.”
That’s exactly the right opening. Ethan immediately launches into his trial strategy.
I smile. This is part of what I miss about living at home. I don’t want to be a famous defense attorney myself, but I love hearing about the way Ethan attacks cases. His work fascinates me.
I sit on a bench and chat with him for an hour. It’s not until my battery starts chirping that I stand and tell him I have to go before my phone dies.
“It’s so good to talk to you, Ave. We’d love to see you. I can drive out and pick you up if you want to come home for the weekend?”
“Not this weekend, but soon. I miss you guys, too.”
“Okay. Be careful. We love you.”
My eyes sting. Ethan’s the goddamned best. No matter how misguided those cameras were, Shane’s a jerk for not forgiving him by now.
“Love you too,” I say before I end the call.
As I head to the off-campus bus stop, I try to devise a strategy to convince Shane to reconcile with Ethan.
My attention’s occupied, which is why I don’t see or sense anything before something splashes me in the face. My scream comes several seconds late because I’m so shocked.
My eyes sting, and I throw my hands up in defense.
