My tunneling vision.
His stale breath.
My dry heaves.
His sharp words.
My terror.
I can’t.
All I see is the look Tati wore that night after Officer Lopez—Adam—hauled me into his cruiser and drove me home. After he told her I was lucky he’d brought me to her instead of to the station.After he told her things were over between them, that he couldn’t be with a woman whose “ward” was a budding criminal.
She was devastated.
But she bounced backrealquick, getting down and dirty with Davis Walker.
As she pulls into her spot at the Towers, her expression is one of superiority; she doesn’t look like a big sister who will stand by me.
Still, she says, “Tell me. What happened that night?”
She doesn’t want the truth. She wants to be right.
And I can be as heartless as she is.
“I kissed him,” I tell her. “Just like Gabi said.”
Henry
I wait a few days before putting Piper’s number to use.
She doesn’t want to set up my dad and her sister, and that’scool. But I haven’t had a second away from Davis since our fishing excursion. He’s talked me into hanging out at the beach, followed me into the Towers’ gym, treated me to a matinee of a new spy thriller, and dragged me to Blitz Brews the last couple of nights, where he left me at the bar while he walked the floor, spewing merriment all over his patrons.
I like Mateo—he keeps the conversation and soda coming. But I don’t want to spend all summer bellied up to a bar, watching an acquaintance pull beers and mix mai tais.
Last night, I got sucked into another of Whitney’s tearful text vortexes. When I told her I had to get to bed, she called my mom, who was cramming for a test. Mom, in turn, called me.
“Handle your business, Henry,” she said firmly, but with sympathy. “If you want her to leave you alone, you have to say those words to her. Otherwise, you’re stringing her along.” Then she told me Iwas her whole heart and that she had to get back to studying.
Idowant Whitney to leave me alone. I want that more than anything. And I get what my mom means about leading her on. Still, sayingDon’t contact me ever againto a girl who’s hanging on by a fraying thread feels wildly cruel. I ended up texting Silas, who’s in the same social circle as Whitney and is the more sensitive of my running buddies. I asked him to check in on her.
Take her to get coffee or something? She’s having a hell of a time. She could use a friend.
He replied quickly and asked for no explanation, which is probably why he and I get along so well:No problem, dude.
I give up on sleep just before sunrise, haul my ass out of bed, and run four miles down the beach and four miles back. Afterward, I take a cold shower because Florida is hot as shit even before the sun’s fully up. I’m not being particularly quiet, but there are no signs of life from Dad’s room. Peering through the doorway, I find him sprawled out on his mattress, mouth open as he breathes raspily.
I text Piper:Want to grab breakfast?
It takes her a minute to respond, time I spend hoping Davis doesn’t roll out of bed before I can bail.
Then:Okay.
A few minutes later, I’m knocking on the door to her place.
She answers, wearing a dress that’s the same blue as her eyes. Its straps are thin and its hem is high. I’m into it.
“Let’s go,” she hisses, grabbing my arm and giving it a tug.
