“What about her?” Ethan cocks his head, his face wide open.
“The reason why she broke up with me sophomore year.”
“Because she was moving, right?”
“No.” I try to keep my voice even. “Because she thought you and I hooked up in Anguilla.”
“Why would she think that?”
“You tell me.”
Ethan purses his lips but doesn’t say anything, which only infuriates me more.
“I saw the postcard,” I say. “The one you wrote to Billy. She found it in his room.”
He nods slowly like he’s considering the information. “And?”
“Excuse me?” I cross my arms over my chest, plumes of rage rising in my stomach.
He drops his hands by his sides, and his shoulders inch up toward his ears. “I should have told you,” he says, “but it was such a long time ago.”
The shock is so sudden, so abrupt that it takes me a moment to realize he’s not denying any of it, not a word. He lied in order to get what he wanted. To get me.
“How could youdothis? You knew how upset I was, and youmadethat happen. You caused it.”
“I’m sorry, Lucy.” He reaches for my waist again, and I pull back, away from him. He doesn’t sound sorry. In fact, he sounds like he doesn’t care at all, like he’d prefer it if we wrapped up this whole conversation fast so we could hook up or search for shooting stars.
“I don’t understand how you’re being sowhateverabout this,” I say, scrambling to stand. “Our whole relationship was founded on alie.”
Ethan lets out a laugh, then runs both hands through his hair, his face turned up to the sky.
“What is so funny?”
“You,” he says, getting to his feet. “You’re being so hypocritical.”
“Me?” I ask, shoving my thumb into my chest. “How amIa hypocrite?”
Ethan raises his eyebrows at me like he’s waiting for me to say something, and all of a sudden, the bottom of my stomach drops to my feet, my sense of gravity shaking.He knows.
“Yeah, Lucy,” he says. “I found out about Penn.”
A force slams into my chest, and I try to find something to say.
“I know you got in and you’ve been lying to me.” He takes a deep breath, pushing air out through his teeth.
“Did Olivia tell you?”
“Olivia?” Ethan bowls over and presses his palm to his forehead. “Jesus Christ, you toldOliviaand not me? No wonder you’re so mad about something that happened two years ago. You’re not over her. You wereneverover her.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You’re not even denying it!”
“Of course I’m over her,” I say, ignoring the pulsing in my gut. “But right now, I’m mad atyou. This is aboutus.”
“Yeah, well, I’m mad at you, too, Lucy. You didn’t tell me about one of the biggest decisions of your life. You made it without me.” He pauses like he’s catching his breath.
“How did you find out?” My voice is small, but I try to keep it steady even though panic is creeping into my throat.
