Why wouldn’t she? I’d lied before.
***
I’ve been waiting on the sweltering asphalt for almost ten minutes when Tati comes out of the supermarket, shoving the buggy with wrathful purpose. She loads the groceries into the trunk, not bothering to unlock the passenger door, ensuring that I’m cooked through by the time she’s done.
“How could you take her side?” I ask when we’re both in the Volvo. I jam my seat belt into its slot. My rage-fueled crying ran its course before she emerged from the store, but my indignation hasn’t gone anywhere.
“Well, Piper. Let’s review the night in question. You drank illegally, and you left Gabi’s house alone in the middle of the night. Adam found you wandering more than a mile down the beach, wasted. He drove you home in his squad car—while on duty—and then, if you’ll recall, he broke up with me while you puked all over the bathroom, which I later had to clean. Why would I take your side when you habitually make terrible choices?”
God, is she right?
Am I to blame for what happened with Damon?
If I’d been more responsible, I might not have found myselfalone with him. If I hadn’t had so much to drink, he might not have singled me out. I wasn’t in the right headspace to reason with him, to effectively say no, to fight him off. There was little chance I’d be able to reliably recount what he did later, and he knew it.
Does responsibility lie with me or him?
Him.
Jayden and Hudson knew I was drunk. Jayden mixed most of my drinks, and Hudson helped me out of the pool. Neither of them lured me to a private room. Neither of them put their hands on me.
Damon is a predator.
So why is guilt whispering accusations in my ear?
Because I make terrible choices, like my sister said.
I wait for her to pull onto the main drag before I say, quietly, “I wish you wouldn’t assume I’m always at fault.”
“But you so often are! Do you need examples of your most foolish decisions? Let’s start with last year, when you drove my car without permission.Beforeyou got your license.”
“I was with Gabi,” I counter, “whowasa licensed driver. And we only drove in the parking lot of the Towers. She was teaching me how to parallel park!”
Tati thumps her hand against the steering wheel like a judge banging a gavel. “Illegal! What about sophomore year, when you were caught cheating on your history midterm?”
“Iwasn’t cheating. I knew that study guide front and back.” That semester, Jayden was in danger of failing U.S. history, which was going to get him booted from the wrestling team. I’donly wanted to help him secure a C, a grade just good enough to keep him on the mat. I positioned my paper so he could sneak a peek or two. In retrospect, I probably should’ve kept my answers to myself. Jayden and I both got zeros on that test, and he didn’t get to wrestle for the rest of the season. “I was trying to help a friend,” I tell Tati, my voice small.
“You werecheating.”
The way she spits out that word makes me sound like a delinquent, not a girl trying to boost a buddy.
“Let’s get back to what happened last month at Gabi’s,” she continues. “You kissed your best friend’s boyfriend, which is so unbelievably wrong I can’t even wrap my head around it. Then you came home drunk atseventeen. It’s one thing to screw up every once in a while, but I wish that just once, you’d take responsibility for the mistakes you make.”
“I don’t need to! You’re always around to throw them in my face.”
Shepffts, like I’msoridiculous. “You destroyed your best friendship—youronlyfriendship. Do you honestly feel good about that?”
“If you want the truth, I haven’t felt good for a long time. You have no idea what happened between Damon and me, but instead of asking, instead of checking in to make sure I’m okay, you’re taking Gabi’s story at face value. You’re taking her side over mine.”
“Okay.” Tati flips on her turn signal. The Towers and salvation are in sight. “Why did Gabi walk in on you with her boyfriend?”
I could tell my sister everything. Yes, I stole her booze and lied about where I was going. I got bombed and dove into the pool half naked for the pure exhibitionist fun of it. Stupid, stupid, stupid choices. But being with Damon?
Not a choice.
How can I describe those moments I spent with him?
His cold hands.
