“No,” I said immediately. The word came out faster than I meant it to. My stomach tightened at the sound of his name. Cherry glanced at me, startled.
It was just one more thing I hadn’t wanted to think about during my so-called digital detox. One more moment my mind had dragged back into focus, no matter how hard I tried to bury it. Apart of me still hoped it had been a misunderstanding. The other part of me knew it wasn’t. The way Killian had looked at me. The way he spoke. The anger blooming out of his drunken body, unchecked and entitled. If Austin hadn’t called me when he did, I wasn’t sure what Killian would have done. It almost felt like fate—the timing, the interruption, the way I’d been spared. But now I could see it wasn’t. So what was it? Luck? And wasn’t that worse?
Because if Killian had reminded Austin of Seren’s rapist—
Then where was Seren’s luck?
Nowhere.
“Why?” Cherry asked quietly, catching the edge of disgust in my voice.
“Killian is a bad person,” I said simply. Cherry sighed, and it came from deep in her chest. The kind of sigh you make when you already know the truth, but you don’t want to say it out loud yet.
“Blair,” she said carefully, “you’re going to have to tell me what happened that night. You know that, right? Maybe not tonight. But sometime.” I hummed noncommittally, staring straight ahead. I didn’t want to tell Cherry everything. I couldn’t. I wanted to take that night and cut it cleanly out of my memory, pretend it had never existed at all. “Do you want to get something to eat?” she tried again. “We could go to that place you like in Riverside.”
“I already ate,” I said too quickly. I hated how obvious it sounded. Lying used to be easy. To my parents. To Holden. Even to myself. Cherry was different.
“Have you?” she asked softly. The question was quiet, but it landed heavy between us. I had eaten. Exactly two hundred and seventy-eight calories.
“Yeah,” I said. It wasn’t really a lie. Not technically.
“Blair,” Cherry said, her voice dropping lower, more careful now. “Have you been eating? You’re not… you’re eating, right?” My chest tightened.
“Why the hell would you even ask me that?” I snapped, forcing anger into my voice. I wasn’t angry. But I’d learned that trick a long time ago. When people accuse someone innocent, they get mad. Defensive. Loud. Convincing.
“I’m just making sure,” Cherry said quickly. Guilt flickered in my chest. Not enough to tell the truth.
“Have you ever smoked a cigarette?” I asked suddenly, changing the subject as the idea crashed fully into my mind.
“No?” Cherry said it like a question. I could practically hear her brain scrambling, trying to jump tracks fast enough to keep up with me.
“Me neither.” I raised my eyebrows at her, then jerked the steering wheel sharply, pulling us into the parking lot of a convenience store that appeared on our right. Cherry’s arms flew out instinctively, her hands grabbing for anything solid like she thought a collision was imminent. I laughed at the sight of her, and when she heard me laughing, a smile finally bloomed across her face. Relief, at last. “Let’s get some,” I said, swinging haphazardly into a parking spot.
“Seriously?” she asked, but her tone had softened. She still looked at me like I was unhinged, just not the kind of unhinged that required calling Lucy.
“Yeah,” I laughed again. “Why not?”
She hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Alright. If you think this will make you feel better, sure. But I’ll do the talking and the buying. You just—” she pointed at me, “—shut up. Try not to speak.”
“Okay,” I agreed immediately. I’d expected that. It fit my plan perfectly.
Cherry seemed to come back to life the moment we stepped inside, energized by the familiar thrill of flirting her way into trouble. She was lighter, looser, and somehow so was I. This was what I’d been missing, wasn’t it? Reckless, teenage fun. She walked straight up to the counter, and I had to bite back a laugh at the sway of her hips, the practiced flick of her hair. The guy behind the till was instantly captivated, his attention locking onto her like I didn’t exist. Perfect.
I drifted toward the back of the store, toward the long wall of coolers humming quietly to themselves. My fingers slid across the cold glass as I scanned the options. Beer. Wine coolers. Cider. Things I knew nothing about. My pulse buzzed with anticipation. I’d never stolen anything in my life. Time to change that. Yellow Blair never would have. But… what am I now?
I glanced back at Cherry. I knew how fast she worked. I didn’t have long. I went with the obvious choice. A teenage girl stealing a pack of beer. Cliché. I loved it. I forced myself to act casual as I opened the fridge, crouched down, and grabbed the pack. I tucked it behind my back as I stood, the urge to giggle bubbling dangerously close to the surface I walked toward the counter, heart pounding, a strange thrill rushing through me. Finally, Trouble. And it tasted good.
“Thanks for the understanding, Charles,” Cherry purred as the cashier slid the cigarettes across the counter. She snagged a lighter too, dropping a crumpled bill I was almost certain she’d pulled from her bra. “I can’t believe I forgot my ID at home,” she laughed, the fakest laugh imaginable. It nearly sent me over the edge.
“No problem,” the cashier said. “Hey… any chance I could get your number?”
“She’s taken,” I yelled from behind them. A terrible choice. I realized that immediately. They both turned to look at me. Their faces lit up with the same realization at the same time, their eyes dropping to my arms. To the one hidden behind my back.
“Blair?” Cherry whispered, her eyes widening.
“What—” the man barely got the word out.
“Thanks!” I half yelled, half laughed, and then my feet were already moving. I turned and ran for the door without another glance back.
