I step out of my jeans and turn on the water, letting it cascade over me, burning my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my forehead against the wall, breathing in the steam. So many different thoughts are racing through my head, and I try to gather them, to put them into some sort of order, but everything is just so complicated. I need to get my shit together. All the drinking isn’t even worth the few hours of distraction it gives me. The drugs are ruining my life. Declan Portwood and his crew aren’t the kind of people I should be surrounded by. I don’t want to keep on letting Mom down every single day, and I want to be there for my brothers. I don’t have the energy to keep on dealing with Tiffani, to maintain such a bullshit relationship. What am I really doing wasting my time with her? She could ruin my life, I know that, but I think I might just be willing to accept that if it means I can end things for good.
And Eden… I would do anything for her. She’s the first girl I’ve ever found myself thinking seriously about, the first girl I’ve ever been myself around, the first girl I’ve ever fallen in love with. I’m not throwing what I have with Eden away. I’m not ruining this like how I’ve ruined everything else.
It’s Monday tomorrow. A new week, a clean slate. I’m going to fix everything.
I sit on the floor of the shower for half an hour, the water pouringover my face, washing away all of the negativity in my life, and when I finally get up and switch it off, I feel rejuvenated. Hopeful. Optimistic.
I am going to do better.
I pull on a fresh pair of jeans, dry my hair with a towel, and am just slipping a clean shirt over my head when I hear footsteps racing upstairs. I expect it to be Mom, or maybe even Eden, but it is neither of them. My bedroom door bursts open at its hinges as Tiffani storms into my room. Does no one ever actually check to see who’s at the front door in this house? It seems like Tiffani is forever letting herself in.
“You,” she spits. There is a storm forming in her blue eyes as she marches across the room toward me and slams her shoulder into my bicep, pushing me out of her way. She’s only wearing sweatpants and a tank top. Her hair is in a ponytail. No makeup. It’s rare for me to see her like this, and I get the immediate sense that something is really, really wrong. She’s pissed.
“If this is about me disappearing last night…” I say as I watch her cross my room and peer into my bathroom. “I didn’t do anything stupid, Tiff. I left, actually. I didn’t want to be there after last year.”
“Your bed is made,” Tiffani points out, nodding behind me as she comes to a standstill directly in front of me. She places her hands on her hips and presses her lips together. “When have youevermade your bed? You didn’t come home last night. Where is she?”
“What? Where’s who?” I splutter, blinking fast. What the hell is going on?
Tiffani has already swiveled around though, striding back out of my room. I’m quick to follow her, desperately chasing her into the hall as she pushes open the door to Eden’s room now instead. My heartbeat rockets. Is she… Is she looking for Eden?
“Tiffani,” I say, following her into Eden’s room. She isn’t even here,and Tiffani wildly circles the room in aggravation before she pushes her way past me again and back out into the hall. I reach for her elbow, trying to pull her back so that she can explain to me what the hell she is doing and why she is here, but she suddenly tenses up.
“Oh, here she is,” she announces with bitter satisfaction as she shakes my hand off her arm. “You’re just in time.”
I look up over Tiffani’s shoulder and my face immediately pales when I see Eden paused on the stairs, staring back at us with wide eyes full of confusion. She’s in her workout gear, and it looks like she’s just got back from a run. She is still breathing heavily, and I shake my head slowly at her as I run a hand through my hair. ItisEden that Tiffani is searching for. “In time for what?” Eden asks, glancing warily between Tiffani’s outraged expression and my panicked gaze. There’s no way…There’s no way Tiffani knows what went down last night. But then why is she here?
“I need to talk to you both, because in case you can’t tell, I am pissed the hell off,” Tiffani says, and she spins around to face me. She holds up a clenched fist, her knuckles trembling from the pressure. “I am this close to punching you in the face, Tyler.”
“What have I done this time?” I ask, feigning innocence. I already know that it’s useless, and I already know that Tiffaniwillswing at me if she gets angry enough, so I step away from her. Better to be safe than sorry.
“What have you done? Are you seriously asking?” she says in dis-belief, her mouth open. She looks younger without all the makeup, but right now, I think she might just be the most furious I have ever seen her. She inhales deeply, keeping her cool, and then firmly orders, “Backyard. Now.”
She turns away from me, shoving Eden to one side and against thewall as she pushes her way downstairs. Eden narrows her eyes after her, then flashes her gaze back to me, searching for an explanation. And honestly, all I know is that this isn’t going to be pretty.
“Fuck,” I mouth, burying my face into my hands. I am praying with absolutely everything in me that Tiffani hasn’t figured out the truth, that she isn’t here to confront me about my relationship with Eden.
Tiffani has paused at the foot of the stairs to look back up at us both. “I can talk to you both outside or I can talk to you right here,” she says slowly, placing a hand back on her hip as she casts a quick glance toward the living room. Our parents are in there. She lowers her voice, adding, “And trust me, I think you’d rather I spoke to you outside.”
She definitely knows what’s going on. There is no hiding from this, no denying it. We have no choice but to face Tiffaniandthe consequences. There is a lump forming in my throat as I reluctantly begin to move, guiding Eden downstairs in front of me as we follow in Tiffani’s path down the hall, through the kitchen, and outside into the backyard.
The sun is bright and blinding, and the tense silence between all of us is almost unbearable. Eden looks terrified, and I think she may have realized what’s going on too. We both know that we’ve been caught, and that it is far too late to do anything about it.
“Sooo,” Tiffani says. She is facing us both, but she remains several feet away.
“So…” I echo. I’m surprised I can even speak. My throat is so dry, and I’m just waiting for Tiffani to lay the truth out in front of us.
“So I woke up to a text from TJ this morning,” she begins, keeping her voice clear and slow. Her fierce eyes are flickering between Eden and me, most likely waiting for one of us to crack. “And you know, I’m getting real sick of other people talking to me about us hooking up, Tyler, because half the fucking time it’s not even me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, making a face. It’s another pathetic attempt at digging my way out of this, but I’m only wasting my breath. Tiffani’s glare sharpens as she locks her eyes on me, and from beside me, even Eden is looking at me in disbelief as though she can’t believe I’m even trying to deny it.
“Don’t start, Tyler. Just don’t,” Tiffani hisses at me, giving me a small shake of her head. Her tone is changing. It’s growing harsher, angrier, and her words are becoming faster and ragged. “He made a joke about us hooking up last night, because his room was a total mess, and we both know perfectly fine that it wasn’t me.”
It’s almost a reflex at this point to automatically begin conjuring up excuses for my wrongdoings, and although I know that it is pointless, I can’t help but try. “Look, baby, I didn’t hook up with anyone,” I say quickly, lowering my voice, trying to sound gentle as I step toward her. “I just forgot to tidy the place up after—”
“Shut up!” Tiffani screams at me, and it instantly silences me. She’s losing it now, and when Tiffani loses her temper, she is unpredictable. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, her gaze is almost calm, like she is back in control. She angles toward Eden as her mouth forms a cruel smirk. “Eden, didn’t you want your shoes?”
The color drains from Eden’s face and she parts her lips, searching for words that never arrive. She doesn’t know what to say, and neither do I. We’re so screwed. Eventually, she manages to whisper, “How did you—”
