“Athank youwould be enough, for starters,” she hisses.
“Thank you.” The mockery in my voice is unmistakable. I’m such an asshole. I know I should be grateful to her. But I can’t. I’m so damn jealous that it hurts. “Thanks for giving me the tuition fee for this semester after not only our parents but also our grandparents refused to support me. Thanks for giving me the money after Dad went out of his way to make sure I couldn’t even get a fucking student loan just so he could get his way.”
Lia turns pale, like this is totally new information to her. But that’s impossible. There’s no way she doesn’t know.
“God, Jase! They were only trying to protect you. They want the best for you. And yes, maybe their methods aren’t ideal, but they care about you.”
I burst out laughing in disbelief. Yes, of course. That must be it.
“Do you have any idea how often Mom and Dad argue about you being so emotionally unavailable? They blame each other for you being the way you are. It sucks! Since you’ve been here, all they talk about is how to get you into Harvard. How they’re going to get you to talk to them again. How they want you to be part of the family. Everything is about you.”
I stare at her, stunned. “You can’t be serious. It’s never about me! Ever since Sam died, it’s always been about what they want.”
I feel like I’m repeating myself over and over again, but no one listens to me. Not Mom and Dad, not Lia.
My sister flinches when I say Sam’s name. “They only want what’s best for you,” she repeats, like a broken record.
“They have no idea what’s best for me. And you obviously don’t either, otherwise you wouldn’t be here spouting this crap. So what do you want from me, Lia? Why did you want to talk to me?”
“Mom has been devastated since you sent her away.”
My stomach cramps, but I push down my growing guilty conscience. “So? I was devastated too, when they threw me out last year. I didn’t know where to go. You didn’t even reach out to me once, if you’ll recall. They didn’t either. So don’t tell me that Mom’s upset. I was upset too.”
“Please. You were with Caleb and your wonderful extra family all summer. It can’t have been that bad.” Lia’s anger has turned intorecalcitrance, but she has no fucking idea what I went through. None.
“I wasn’t with Caleb,” I whisper. Everything inside of me has gone shockingly silent and cold.
Lia sticks out her chin defiantly and crosses her arms over her chest. She doesn’t want to give in, but her eyes have the telltale gleam of tears. “Where were you, then?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I sigh, and suddenly I’m tired. I’m so sick of these fucking discussions that only turn in circles. I just want peace and quiet. “Why did you want to talk to me, Lia? Did you change your mind? Do you want the money back because I didn’t thank you?”
“No.” She shakes her head, strands of blond hair falling in her face. “I want...” She bites her lower lip, shakes her head again, and laughs joylessly. “Forget it. It was a mistake.”
She turns to leave without waiting for an answer. To be honest, I don’t have one. I feel empty as I watch her go and wonder how it got this far. I wonder what Sam would say if he saw us like this. He’d probably be very disappointed.
My head hurts. Lia disappears into the dorm, and I turn away.
When I get back to the theater, Zoe is gone.
Chapter 48
Zoe
Is it really possible to get over the past? Or does it always catch up with you at one point or another?
—Zoe
Later, I won’t be able to remember what I was doing backstage. I think Katie wanted me to get something from one of the prop rooms. In the end, it doesn’t really matter why I go there, just that I do.
As I’m turning a corner, I see Reed and Charlotte walking down the corridor. Reed looks angry, and he’s holding Charlotte by the arm. He pulls her after him, and she tries to break away, but he’s gripping her arm too tightly. I follow them without thinking and suddenly get a bad feeling in my stomach. Charlotte is clearly trying to get away from him, but she doesn’t look scared. I walk quietly so they won’t hear my footsteps; they haven’t noticed me yet. I briefly wonder if I should get help. Whatever is going on between the two of them doesn’t seem to be good. But instead, I keep following them and watch Reed pull Charlotte into one of the changing rooms. He slams the door behind them.
But I can still hear their voices clearly when I stop outside the room. There’s just a gap of a few inches at the bottom, just wide enough that I can hear every word.
“You’re making this more dramatic than it needs to be,” Charlotte says.
“I’mmaking this dramatic?” I can hear the incredulity in Reed’s voice. “Are you fucking serious?” he says sharply.
I’m about to open the door and ask if everything’s okay when I hear my own name and stop dead.
