“'Manipulative.' 'A slap in the face to anyone who invested their time.'” I'm quoting from memory now, her written words burned into my brain. “That was you.”
Dad's voice echoes in my head: “When this all falls apart, you'll come crawling back. Hardware store's always hiring.”
The hardware store. Ten-hour shifts selling screws and pretending I'm grateful for the opportunity. That's what her review might have just condemned me to.
“That's not all I said?—”
“You gave me two stars, Piper. TWO.” My hands are shaking. “Do you know what that did to my average? I needed to maintain at least a B+ for the scholarship board to take me seriously. For studios to even look at my portfolio.”
She's gone pale. Good. Maybe she's finally understanding.
“When did you figure it out?” My voice cracks. “Before or after we fucked?”
She flinches. I want her to flinch. I want her to hurt like I'm hurting.
“Ethan, please?—”
“When, Piper?”
She pulls the sheet tighter, looking small and guilty. “The night of the party.”
The night of the party. Before I helped her reclaim her bench. Before I told her about my dad, about the hardware store, about how much I needed this to work. Before I specifically said I needed honesty after Paige.
“So when I told you about my game, about how much the reviews mattered, you knew. When I explained that my dad was watching my grades through the portal, waiting for me to fail, you knew.” My voice is rising. “When I said the review made me doubt everything, made me wonder if maybe I should just give up and go work at the fucking hardware store, youknew.”
“I didn't know how to tell you!”
“Bullshit.” The word explodes out of me. “There were so many opportunities, Pip. So fucking many.”
I'm yanking on my jeans, can't stand being naked in front of her. Vulnerable. Exposed. Just like I was with Paige.
“I was scared?—”
“Of what?” The words come out strangled. My chest feels exactly like it did that night at the party when I saw Paige grinding against Brody. That same sick, hollow feeling. Like the floor's disappearing beneath me. “Scared I'd find out you think I'm wasting my time like everyone else?”
“That's not?—”
My hands are shaking. Actually shaking. I have to grip the dresser to steady myself. “Except you're worse because you made me believe you were different.”
“Idobelieve in you!”
“No, you don't.” The room is spinning slightly. I'm having trouble breathing. “You wrote that my game was manipulative. Unearned. A waste of six hours. You picked it apart piece by piece, just like?—”
I have to stop. The parallel is too perfect, too cruel. Paige picking apart our relationship with her friends while telling me she loved me. Piper picking apart my game while telling me she believed in me.
“That's not what I think?—”
“It's what you wrote. In detail. With examples.” My shirt is halfway on and I realize I'm struggling with it because my hands won't stop trembling. This is pathetic. I'm pathetic. “God, I'm such an idiot. I did it again.”
“Did what again?”
“Fell for someone who was laughing at me behind my back.” The words taste like bile. “At least Paige had the decency to cheat obviously. You just... sat there. Watching me spiral about the review, knowing you wrote it, probably thinking how dramatic I was being about your totally justified criticism.”
She's crying now, silent tears sliding down her face, and it reminds me so much of Paige's tears when I confronted her. The same guilty, caught expression.
“I trusted you, Piper.” My voice cracks completely. “I trusted you with everything. My dad, my fears, my?—”
I have to turn away because I'm about to cry and I refuse to cry in front of her. Not when she's the one who lied.
