I think I might like Adam Emery.
“Do you resent him for that? For going back and doing that when he could have left it and not gone to jail?” I question curiously.
I want to know. I need to know what young Adaline must have thought or felt. How did she feel when she heard the news? it's only normal for her to have resented him. She was just a kid after all; a kid who lost her brother.
“Who do you think waited in the car while he did it?” she asks proudly.
I find myself biting back a smile at her words. I should have known; even young Adaline was confident. It's strangely heart-warming to think of her joining her brother to do something so commendable, but dangerous at the same time.
“Is that girl okay?”
I can't even imagine the trauma she went through, getting sexually assaulted. I don't pry on who she is because I know Adaline won't tell me and it's not my business anyway, I just need to know if she's okay.
“She is okay. She actually helped my brother and paid for his lawyer.”
I force myself not to dwell on the sadness radiating off her because if I do, my chest will swell with an unimaginable amount of pain. I don't know why, maybe it's just empathy.
“Did she ever report it?”
“She tried. The police refused to help because she hadn't actually been raped. They didn't even care that he had been accused of rape by two girls before,” she says angrily clenching her fists on the table.
He had definitely gotten away with this countless times considering how rich he is. I can't even imagine how many people he has done this to. White-hot anger courses throughout my whole body.
Silence engulfs the room for a few minutes after that until I decide to speak. “I’m sorry for saying all those things about your brother.”
She looks genuinely shocked at my apology. Of course, she is. I don’t apologize; I never have, even when it feels like the guilt of treating her like this is eating away at my very soul. I just push it down and move along with my day, but not today.
“I don’t care,” she responds, but I see the half smile she’s currently directing at me.
An actual smile, directed at me? One that isn't sarcastic or cruel, but genuine. Hell must have frozen over. When she smiles like that her dimples take over her face as her eyes smile too.
How did we go from fighting to her opening up about her brother? And why are my legs shaking all of a sudden?
The rest of the time we have locked in here is spent in silence, but it’s comfortable, although I sneak a few glances at her every now and then, wondering why it feels like we’ve sort of reached a truce.
Chapter THIRTEEN
A d a l i n e
Howcould I tell her that? It's been a few days and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I told Juliette about why my brother was sentenced to prison. My friends don't even know about it, mostly because Adam had told me years ago not to say anything, as I would have been sued for defamation if the news was ever spread around.
So why did I feel so comfortable telling Juliette?
Things have been changing recently between us. I tutored her two days ago and it was actually amicable, unusually silent too. It’s almost as if we’ve reached a truce or something. Although we still bicker, she’s being less venomous lately.
I’m tutoring her again tomorrow and I’m dreading it. My mind has become so hazy around her lately and I don't know why. All I know is that I've spent the last five years trying my best to avoid and repress whatever I think or feel about her and it's getting harder to keep it in.
“I just got a text,” Adam says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
His hand is on the steering wheel as he parks up outside my school. Anytime he doesn't have work he always drops me off, mostly because ever since he came out of jail, he always spends his free time with me. I assume he wants to make up for lost time, as do I.
He’s also being weirdly protective because I came home a few days ago with Juliette’s handiwork displayed on me and a call from the principal that Adam relayed. Can’t wait till I turn eighteen and don’t have to answer to any school authority again.
I didn’t tell him it was Juliette, telling him instead that it was just some random girl and I had to physically restrain him from going to the school.
“Do you want a medal or …”
“Smartass,” He retorts, slapping my shoulder playfully. “It's from my probation officer. She just heard that Ben has been arrested.”
