“Mara.”
“I don’t get this. Is it because we broke up? I told you why. You agreed that our friendship was more important.”
“I agreed in part.”
“In part is still agreeing.”
“Mara, sit down.”
I hadn’t realized I’d stood up, but I don’t comply and pace across the worn maroon rug spread across the hardwood floor. I need answers. I need this to make sense. I need to somehow hold all of this in my hand and see the whole picture, the what and why and how.
“You were with her, weren’t you? That redhead. Just say it, Charlie.”
She rubs her forehead, then tangles her fingers into her hair. A short lock drops into her eyes and she leaves it there. “I was with Hannah.”
Her voice is soft, as if she’s coaxing a wild animal out of a cave, but it doesn’t matter. The name is still an explosion in my ears.
“Why?” The tiny syllable comes out on a breath and my knees go rubbery. I must be swaying, because Charlie grabs my hand and pulls me back down onto the bed.
“Because she’s upset and scared and her parents are pretty much smothering her right now and she just wanted to be with someone who wasn’t going to shove more chicken soup down her throat.”
“Why?” I ask again. Charlie still has my hand in hers and I will her not to let go. If she does, surely this time I’ll splinter into pieces.
“Have you been home?” she asks. “Have you talked to your mom? Or . . . or your brother?”
I stare at her, blinking.
“Mara—”
“It’s not true. It can’t be. There has to be some—”
“It’s true, Mara.”
My throat tightens at the soft way she says my name, the vowels almost musical. Part of me realizes she’s trying to keep me calm. Part of me doesn’t care.
“How?” I ask. Tears bloom but don’t fall. “Owen wouldn’t. He would never.”
“I saw Owen at the lake and he was hammered.”
“I know. I saw him too.”
“He was acting like a total dumb-ass with his orchestra friends.”
“That’s what he does at parties, Charlie. It doesn’t mean he—”
“Just let me talk.” She says it gently, reaches out a hand to squeeze my knee. All it does is make me feel wild, but I force my words behind my teeth.
Charlie takes a deep breath. “Hannah wasn’t with him, and when I asked him where she was, he just stared at me and mumbled something about getting another beer. You were nowhere to be found and my phone didn’t have a signal, so Tess and I went looking for Hannah.”
I vaguely register the unfamiliar name. It seems so silly now. “I went home,” I whisper, but I’m not sure Charlie even hears me.
“I found her on the trail,” she goes on, pulling her hand from mine. She takes a few more big breaths, her gaze going hazy. “She was just sitting on a bench at one of those cement overlooks about half a mile from the party, staring at the water. Her dress was all stretched out over her shoulders and I couldn’t get her to talk to me for, like, ten minutes. Finally, she mumbled something I couldn’t make out about Owen, and I half carried her to my car. I was going to take her home, but after I dropped off Tess, Hannah still wouldn’t say anything and she was holding her arm weirdly, like it hurt. I was totally freaking out. I tried calling my parents, but they were at a fundraiser for my dad’s school and weren’t answering so I took her to Memorial. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“And they said she was okay, right? She wasn’t hurt?”
Charlie looks away and presses the heels of both hands into her eyes. “She is hurt, Mara. She has a sprained wrist. Her parents showed up and wanted her to do one of those rape kits, and it was fucking awful. She screamed the entire time. It took hours.”
I flinch at the word. At all the words.
