Ask Me Anything

by Molly E. Lee

  Dad tilted his head, leaning farther over the table. “You know…I mean…that’s not possible…” He glanced to Mom for help.

  “You can see where we’re having a hard time understanding that statement, right?” She raised her eyebrows. “But if you like girls, we’re totally cool with that, too. I just thought you and Dean—”

  “No,” I cut her off before we could re-open that still-bleeding wound. “The girl. She wrote in. Told me after I answered her question about birth control that she took my advice and wound up pregnant.” I hid my face in my hands, unable to face them. “I ruined someone’s life.”

  “Oh, honey, no,” Mom said as she folded herself over my back. “There is no way that is your fault.”

  “It is,” I mumbled against my hands.

  “I’ve read every single blog post,” she said. “Your father, too.”

  I peeked through my fingers to find them both nodding. A full-body blush coated my skin, and I hid again.

  “And the piece on birth control and doubling up was exceptional,” Dad said.

  “Yes,” Mom agreed. “You stated the odds, and even went on to say that it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

  I dropped my hands. “She blames me.”

  “She’s a teenager who just found out her world has changed. She’s looking for anyone to blame but herself.”

  “You can’t take on that kind of responsibility,” Dad said. “You weren’t the one who didn’t use protection.”

  “But I’m the one who thought I could help people. Not hurt them. It’s my fault. I should’ve never started this blog. I just wanted to give people a taste of what we have.” I looked between them. “I can ask you both anything. Always. No judgment.” I shrugged, completely, utterly exhausted. “I wanted everyone to have that luxury.”

  “We know,” Mom said.

  “What do I do?”

  She glanced at Dad before looking at me again. “We’ll talk to Tanner with you—”

  “I don’t care about him,” I said. “I care about the girl. My responsibility or not. How do I make that right?”

  “Do you know who she is?” Dad asked.

  I shook my head. “She used an alias.”

  “Do you think she attends Wilmont?” Mom asked.

  “She said she would be a junior at Wilmont next year.”

  Mom nodded. “Well, if you really want to make it right, you’ll need to find out who she is and speak to her in person. Offer her support. That is what she’ll need most, regardless of what she decides to do.”

  My stomach clenched. “If I can’t find her?” The question was a whisper.

  Both my parents eyed me.

  “You know you can find her,” Dad said.

  “Yeah,” I said, sighing. “I know.” It wouldn’t take much to trace backward from the alias’s email, but I was terrified. “But…what if she doesn’t want to be found?”

  “You aren’t obligated,” Dad continued. “You can make a blanket statement apology post. You could email her back.”

  “No,” I said, rising from my seat. “I want to see her. Talk to her. Be there for her. Whoever she is.” I headed toward the stairs, wanting to fall into bed for the rest of forever.

  “Amber,” Mom said, stopping me at the foot of the stairs. “Anything else you want to talk about?”

  I parted lips, wanting to tell her about Dean, about the knife in my heart, but I was just so damned tired. “Not right now,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said. Hugging me again. “We’re proud of you, baby.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t deserve that.”

  “You do,” she said, releasing me. “You’ll see that someday.”

  I took the stairs two at a time, sealing myself inside my room. My computer stared at me from the desk, begging me to find the girl.

  I didn’t have the energy. Wasn’t in the right frame of mind. But I sank into the chair anyway.

  Dean—someone I’d given more of myself to than anyone in my life—had betrayed me. Wrecked me. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. To tell him the knowledge came from an outside source—my mother—not from personal experience.

  Clicking on the girl’s email address, I worked my way backward, hitting the keys on autopilot. I guess I really could do this in my sleep because that was exactly what the search felt like—like I was hacking through a thick fog.

  Last night? With me. Was it just research for your next blog?

  I flinched as Dean’s words echoed in my mind, stinging me just as fiercely as they had before.

  I never expected any of this.

  The blog’s popularity, the consequences, falling for Dean, and then him hurting me more than I knew possible. Brandon had tried to take what wasn’t his—he scarred me with his treatment of me as a possession, and it haunted me. But Dean? I’d given him my heart willingly, despite all my efforts to protect it, and he’d taken it. Taken it and crushed it.

  A few more clicks.

  A gasp.

  Another break in my chest.

  TWCrashandBurn was connected to a Snapchat account I’d seen before.

  TW.

  Tessa Winters.

  Dean’s little sister.

  The light of his life.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  He’d been angry over the blog. Over the secret I’d kept. Over the fact that I’d told him I was a virgin and yet somehow had this wealth of knowledge about sex. He’d lashed out because he thought he hadn’t known me.

  Did he know about Tessa? Or had she not told him yet?

  If he knew what I’d really done?

  That I’d had a hand in getting his baby sister pregnant?

  He would never speak to me again. More than that, he’d likely crash my system over and over—a reminder of the pain I’d caused his family.

  I rubbed my palms over my face, backing away from my computer like the distance would help me breathe.

  He accused me of using him.

  He’d sold me out to Tanner.

  But this…this was worse. This made everything he’d said before no more than I deserved.

  Maybe he had known about her…

  I sank onto my bed, my head buzzing, and the shattered pieces of my heart trying to beat normally as if it hadn’t just been obliterated.

  Chapter Thirty

  Dean

  “You look miserable,” Tessa said as she walked into my room.

  I leaped to my feet from where I’d been sitting on the floor of my room, my back against the bed. Somewhere in the night—while not sleeping—I’d ended up there and simply stared.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice raspy.

  “Yes,” she hissed, glancing over her shoulder. She whirled around, shutting the door behind her. “Can you not?” she asked, taking a seat in the chair at my desk. “Mom and Dad got back this morning.”

  “They did?” I blinked a few times, my eyeballs grainy.

  “You’d know that if you bothered to leave your room.”

  I scratched my scalp with both hands, trying to force life back into my brain. It was useless. Everything in there was broken, and my heart? Fuck, it was shredded.

  “Have you even slept?”

  I shook my head, sinking onto my bed.

  “You want to talk about the fight?”

  “What?”

  “With Amber?” she asked. “I slept through it, but Sean said she left here in a hurry yesterday. Crying.”

  The image burned my mind. I wanted to take back everything I said. I’d been so angry. In a rage-filled cloud brought on by sheer panic. Tessa’s news had drowned me, and I was so scared for her. The blame on the blog…on Amber…I’d lost it.

  I should’ve waited. Should’ve breathed. Should’ve listened to her.
>
  And with Tanner knowing…hell, he’d probably find a way to stop an MIT acceptance letter from coming.

  I’m an asshole.

  “What did you do?” Tessa snapped.

  “I don’t know. Ruined things.” I rolled my neck and stretched my arms, focusing on her. “We don’t need to talk about this. There are far more important things happening right now,” I said, eyeing her slightly bulging tummy. How had I not noticed it before?

  God, that will change soon.

  The idea of me being an uncle was both terrifying and exciting. But Tessa being a mom? It was straight alien-planet territory. “Tell me what I can do to help you, Tessa,” I continued.

  “You can start by fixing things with Amber.”

  “What?” I pointed at her. “It’s not that simple, and besides, you’ve got way too much to handle on your own right now. Tell me. What can I do?”

  She sighed, her hand rubbing back and forth over her stomach like it wasn’t even a thought. “Forgive me?”

  “Oh, Tess,” I said, scooting along the edge of the bed until I was almost knee-to-knee with her. I took her hands in mine. “I’d never judge. You know that. This…it just happened a lot sooner than you expected.”

  She smiled, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “That’s true,” she said. “But I did something bad.”

  I arched a brow at her. “Tessa,” I chided. “I know about the video prank, and the”—I lowered my voice to a whisper—“soon to be Winters baby. What else could you have possibly done?”

  A crease formed between her brow, and my stomach dropped. “You know I was running off like zero sleep yesterday? I had been averaging one or two hours a night for weeks. I was so stripped and raw. It wasn’t until you forced me to tell you everything that I could breathe. I slept for what felt like forever after that.”

  “Okay,” I said, waiting for the ball to drop.

  “And you know how it is when you get so exhausted,” she said. “You lash out. Do things you shouldn’t?”

  “Tess.”

  She sighed, the tears finally falling. “I sent a super-bitchy email to Ask Me Anything,” she said through the cries. “I blamed her for this.” She pointed to her stomach. “Told her it was her fault that my life was ruined. Called her some horrible things.” Her face fell in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “It’s not true. None of it. Yes, I asked a question, but Colt and I had already…” She shook her head. “I was looking for validation for something I’d already done. I re-read the blog, Dean. It was solid advice.” She sniffled, wiping her face as she looked up at me. “This was my fault. Mine and Colt’s, but mainly mine. I messed up. I didn’t take my pill at the same time every day.” She shook her head. “I’m such a jerk.”

  “Hey,” I chided. “Only I get to call you that.”

  She smiled weakly, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “You’re not a jerk,” I continued, hating that I knew exactly who she’d sent the email to. Hating it more because I knew Amber, and she would torture herself over this for God knows how long.

  Yesterday I thought she deserved it. Yesterday I’d felt betrayed on so many levels that my warped mind had manifested so many scenarios where Amber was just using me for the blog content and hurting people without care.

  That wasn’t her.

  That was never her.

  Stomach rolling, breath catching, I cursed myself.

  I had the best girl in the world, and I somehow managed to ruin that in a day.

  “What should I do?” Tessa asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and that was the truth. I was so lost in this tangled web.

  “Should I write her back? Apologize?”

  “Maybe?” I shrugged. “I highly doubt anyone would ever blame your reaction, Tess. You’re kind of going through something major.”

  She sighed. “That’s an understatement.”

  “I know, but I’m here. I’m going to be here every step of the way. And,” I said before grinding my teeth, “I know Colt will be, too. He’s a good kid.”

  Her mouth dropped. “Seriously?”

  “What?”

  “It takes me getting…” She glanced down at her tummy before looking back at me. “For you to finally admit he’s a good guy?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t say I liked him.”

  She rolled her eyes before blowing out a huge breath. “So,” she said. “Amber.”

  Her name hit me with like a sledgehammer. Guilt gnawed at my insides.

  “She’ll never forgive me. Not after the things I said.” Not after what I’d done—practically handed her over to Tanner. Not directly. It was an accident. Sheer bad timing when he walked in on me, but it didn’t matter. She blamed me. And why shouldn’t she? After the things I said to her in anger…

  “That’s bullshit,” Tessa snapped.

  “It’s not.”

  “It is,” she said, smacking me lightly on the shoulder. “You make it right.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “The only way you know that is if you don’t try. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re with her, and I’ve witnessed you win more hack-wars than I can count.”

  Shit. The TOC was two days away. In light of everything, I’d completely forgotten about the tournament I’d been working on for half the year.

  “It’s like you’re this totally different person,” she continued. “Like…Super Dean.”

  I laughed but knew she was right. Knew Amber had made me better in so many ways and yet still loved me for me.

  Love. She loved me.

  Then she gave me pieces of herself, and her whole heart, and I—

  “Snap out of it, bro.” Tessa smacked my shoulder again.

  “Ow!” I growled. “I am. I mean, damn it, Tessa.” I sighed, rubbing my shoulder. “I don’t know how to fix everything.”

  “Boys.” She rolled her eyes. “You be real with her. Tell her you’re sorry for whatever dumb stunt you pulled.” She eyed me, giving me a minute in case I wanted to divulge just how badly I’d screwed up.

  I didn’t. There was no world where I wanted Tessa to know I’d lost my shit because of her news. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and it hadn’t been fair to Amber.

  Ass. Hole.

  “Fine,” she continued. “Keep it bottled up, but talk to her.” She stood up. “And fast. I know you’re TOC bound in two days. You need to go into that with a clear head, and that means fixing things with Amber.”

  I nodded, completely unsure of how to accomplish that. “Are you sure I can’t do anything for you. Feed you?” I asked, tilting my head.

  She laughed from my doorway. “No,” she said. “Thanks but I can manage.” She snapped her fingers at me. “Don’t be like those guys who make a mistake and bury their heads in the sand for the rest of their lives. Be the guy girls lose their minds over.”

  “I don’t want girls. I only want Amber.” The words cleared the fog over my brain, my heart restarting like the first breath after an ocean dive.

  Tessa eyed me knowingly. “Exactly,” she said before shutting the door behind her.

  Exactly.

  But after what I’d done…

  The trust I’d worked so hard to earn. Broken in a matter of minutes.

  How could she ever find her way back to me?

  A sharp realization hit me over the head—I already had the means to prove it to her, or at least, I’d already started it without even realizing.

  Now, all I had to do was get to work.

  And get her to listen to me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Amber

  NightLocker: Please talk to me

  NightLocker: Let me explain

  NightLocker: Pixie...I’m sorry

  NightLo
cker: There are things you don’t understand

  I tucked my fingers under my arms, ignoring the tingle to respond immediately.

  Damn straight I don’t understand.

  Betrayal stung like a paper cut while opening a package of lemonade mix.

  My heart hurt. Like, I’d been burned before…but this? This physically turned my stomach and seared my chest.

  This…

  This was true heartbreak.

  This was can’t sleep, can’t eat unless its chocolate, can’t breathe without sharp spikes rattling my lungs, relentless heartbreak.

  NightLocker: Give me a chance

  NightLocker: I can make this right

  NightLocker: I want to...

  NightLocker: I need you...DC remember? Doesn’t that mean anything anymore?

  Tears stung my eyes as I read his pleas. His use of our secret word, a code that had become something so much more than a warning. Something as vital as breathing and as true as the ache in my heart.

  Some deep part of me, the one he’d branded his name on, wanted to forgive him. Needed to.

  Because who was I to judge…after what I’d done?

  I should forgive him. I should tell him the truth about what I knew.

  But what was the point? Once he uncovered it…once he learned what I’d really done…

  He’d hate me.

  I reached for the keyboard, the motion almost painful.

  NightLocker: I need you...DC remember? Doesn’t that mean anything anymore?

  PixieBurn: everything & nothing

  NightLocker: Amber

  NightLocker: Please

  NightLocker: What does that even mean

  I paused my response, choking back a sob.

  It didn’t matter. He’d find out soon enough.

  Might as well endure the break now.

  I just wished like hell it didn’t have to hurt so damn much.

  PixieBurn: It means

  PixieBurn: Hack my gear like this again

  PixieBurn: for a chat

  PixieBurn: for help

  PixieBurn: for anything

  PixieBurn: and I’ll crash your entire system

  I hated myself a fraction more with each message sent.