“He’ll never leave me,” Bartlett would say with a lazy smile. “Just like you.”
He was wrong on that.
But even though I did nothing wrong, I have nothing to feel ashamed of, I still don’t want to face him. Plus, I think I forgot to brush my teeth.
It’s better to stay here and let him pass and—
I step back without thinking, without looking behind me. Also forgetting that this part of the path is the top of a hill, and the hill goes down even when you’re off the path.
I step back onto the slope, tripping over a tree root jutting up. With a windmill of my arms, I lose my balance. Rusty jumps free from my arms as I go down. I stumble, roll, slide down the hill.
It’s not pretty.
I manage to stop myself about halfway down, Rusty gallivanting around me like this is some kind of game.
It’s really not.
Boen
After she analyzes my life, Bexley turns to the real reason she stopped by—for me to help her figure out how to tell our parents she’s going to be on The Suitor.
I find it difficult to come up with any pros to tell Mom and Dad, but because it’s Bexley, I do my best. We’re still discussing it as I walk her to the door.
“I think you should just tell them,” I repeat, having said the same thing at least seven times.
“I think I should watch an episode with them so that they know it’s not so bad,” she continues to insist.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
A beat-up SUV pulls into the driveway Rachel shares with Mrs. Gretchen. My quick intake of breath has Bexley glancing over. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
I nod, watching as the truck disappears between the houses, feeling like I’m stalking as I wait for Rachel to appear. “She’s limping,” I say, as Rachel hobbles around the corner of her house. “Rachel!” I call, forgetting my sister as I cut across the lawn. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Rachel pulls the dog close to her, away from me. Even the slight movement shows that she’s clearly favouring her right leg. She frowns at Bexley, scowls at me.
Her expression doesn’t deter me. “It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you’re hurt,” I insist.
“What do you care?” she snaps, limping to her door.
“I’m Bexley,” my sister calls after her. “Since my brother hasn’t thought to introduce us.”
Rachel stops with a glance over her shoulder. “Brother?”
“Twin brother, actually.” Bexley smiles warmly and I can’t help but think of how good my sister is at this. Small talk. Being friendly. Stopping Rachel before she disappears, allowing me the chance to fix whatever I broke.
“You’re the one who had the accident,” Rachel says.
“You’re the one he slept with.” Rachel’s jaw drops a bit at Bexley’s frankness. “No secrets here.” Bexley laughs, and I hold my breath.
Rachel gives me a wary sideways glance. “Guess not.”
“So, what happened?” Bexley asks. She reaches out and pulls a twig from Rachel’s hair. “With your leg, not my brother. I’ll let the two of you figure that out.”
This time, it’s Rachel who refuses to look at me. “I was out walking Rusty and saw my ex, so I hid behind a tree. And then I fell down a hill. I think I might have sprained my ankle.”
I don’t want to think about the sharp stab of pain I get from her casual mention of an ex. It doesn’t matter if it’s the ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend; whoever it was has a past with Rachel that I don’t know about.
And I want to.
