Sam’s shoulders shudder silently.
“They’re monsters, Sam,” I continue in a gentle voice. “They deserve to go to jail for the rest of their lives for what they’ve done.”
“But what if they don’t?” she asks in a sharp tone as she finally looks up at me, her eyes glittering with grief and rage. “What if they get off and get away with it? You know how trials like this go. They’re going to try to prove that Deidre was a slut who’d been screwing her boyfriend since she was thirteen and deserved what she got. They’ll say she was asking for it. Or so drunk the boys couldn’t tell she wasn’t into it, or something.”
She swipes the back of her hand across her cheeks, smearing her tears. “Then I will have sat up there and told the truth for nothing. Deidre is already dead; I’m not. I just want to move forward and stop letting Alec’s mistake ruin my entire life.”
I shake my head, genuinely shocked. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”
“What?” She shifts her knees sharply to one side of the chair as she brushes my hands away. “You think I’m being selfish? Well, you don’t know these people. These guys are rich and connected and they have amazing lawyers who won’t hesitate to tear to pieces anyone who gets up there for the prosecution. It’s going to come down to my word versus theirs and no one is going to believe me after—”
She breaks off with a shake of her head.
A second later, she’s out of the chair, pacing past me into the room. “It doesn’t matter. Just trust me, no one at that school is going to believe a word I say.”
“Why?” I stand and face her, getting more confused the deeper we get into this story. “Why wouldn’t they believe you? You’re a straight A student and one of the stars of the volleyball team. You’re vice president of the honor society, for God’s sake. Why would anyone—”
“I got caught cheating on a test,” she says, eyes squeezing closed as the words come out. “I got behind after I was sick during Spring Break and I…I thought I was going to fail one of my midterms. So I cheated and…I got caught.”
I don’t know what to say. Sam never cheats; she doesn’t need to.
She’s so smart even a couple of hours of studying is usually enough for her to ace any test, while I would have to hit the books for days to get better than a C+ back in high school.
“What happened?” I finally ask. “Did you get kicked out of school?”
She brings one hand to her face and digs her fingers and thumb into the tops of her eyes. “No, just the honor society, but it was…bad. I was on academic probation and it ruined my reputation with my teachers… Cheating is a really big deal at Sterling. It’s enough to throw my word into doubt, and make it pointless for me to testify.”
“I don’t agree,” I say, shaking my head. “You cheated to get ahead, you’d be testifying to help someone else. It’s a totally different thing.”
Her hand falls away from her pale face and she meets my gaze with a stubborn look. “It doesn’t matter, Danny. I’m not going back. I’m not going to take that chance. I can’t afford to make the kind of enemies testifying against Todd Winslow will earn me.”
“Are you afraid they’ll hurt you?” I feel stupid for not considering it before. Of course she must be afraid. These creeps brutalized a girl so badly it drove her to take her own life.
“If that’s it, you don’t have to be,” I say, crossing the room to cup her face in my hands, to let her know with my touch that I want to be there anytime she’s afraid. “I’ll come with you to L.A., and sit in the courtroom the entire time. I’ll stay right next to you every second we’re in California, and beat the shit out of—”
“This isn’t something you can solve with your fists, Danny,” she says, voice rising as she takes a step back, severing our connection. “And this isn’t up for debate. I’m not going back. I’m staying here. I want you to stay with me, but if you can’t forgive me for being a coward for once in my life then—”
“That’s it,” I snap, lifting my fisted hands into the air at my sides. “You’re not a coward! This isn’t who you are, and I know you’re going to regret it. It’s going to affect the rest of our fucking lives, Sam! If you have a warrant out for your arrest, we can never go back to the states. Never.”
“So?” Sam shouts, pointing one arm toward the cabin door. “Your sister ran away from the police, and her life turned out just fine. She’s living happily ever after and about to have a beautiful baby.”
“Caitlin had a millionaire boyfriend with tons of fucking money,” I shout back. “We’ve got nothing, not even minimum wage jobs. And Caitlin ran to keep our family together and be with the person she loved, she didn’t do it to hurt anyone.”
Sam’s forehead wrinkles. “I’m not doing it to hurt anyone, either, I—”
“But you are, Sam,” I interrupt. “Like it or not, you’re hurting people. Think of that girl’s parents, her boyfriend, her friends. Think how all of them must be hurting right now. And how much they want justice for what happened to the person they loved.”
Sam bites her lips for a long moment before shaking her head slowly back and forth. “But it won’t bring her back, Danny. Nothing can bring her back.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “But you can make something horrible a little bit better. You can help bring some peace to her family, and show the other monsters out there that they can’t get away with doing shit like this. You can help other girls who are scared to come forward and—”
“You don’t get it. I don’t want to be a hero,” she says, voice tight. “I know you want me to be, but I can’t. Not this time. It’s too complicated, and I’m not going to do it.”
I study her for a long moment, reading her determination to stand her ground in her eyes, her squared shoulders, the hands curled into fists at her sides. She’s dug her heels in and she’s not going to budge, no matter what I say, no matter how many people she’s going to hurt.
All that’s left to decide is if I’m going to stand with her after everything I’ve learned this afternoon.
On the one hand, she’s still Sam, still my best friend, my lover, and the only person who could ever make me laugh so hard I literally couldn’t stand. On the other hand, she’s lied to me, run away from me, and is determined to choose the easy path over the right one. It’s not an unforgivable sin, and it’s not like I can’t understand the urge to shy away from the hard stuff, but it’s just so not Sam.
The girl I fell in love with would never do half of the things Sam’s done in the past few days, would never say the things Sam has said in this room. I’m not sure who she is, or what she stands for right now.
And if I don’t know that, how can I know our love is going to survive?
How can I know it isn’t already dying, and the optimistic way I felt today just a brief stutter in the downward spiral?
“If you need to go home, I understand,” she says softly. “I won’t blame you.”
I shake my head. The thought of leaving her is unimaginable. I can’t envision a life without her, but I’m not sure I can envision a life where Sam is wanted on a felony charge for obstruction of justice, either. This is all so crazy, and so…avoidable.
I’m never going to understand why she’s doing this. Even if I stay here and things go back to being good between us, it’s going to take a long time for me to trust her the way I used to, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to look at her the same way ever again.
“You’ve always been one of my heroes,” I say, voice rough. “You know that, right? Ever since we were kids. I wouldn’t have become a person I’m proud of without you.”
Sam’s throat works as she swallows. “So it’s my fault?”
“What?” My brows draw together, the movement making me realize my head feels like it’s going to explode. I haven’t had a headache like this in longer than I can remember. “What’s your fault?”
“That you’re leaving,” she says, the next blink of her eyelids
sending tears spilling quietly down her cheeks. “Because I helped make you into someone too good for the person I am now?”
I suck in a breath, so close to crying with her I can barely breathe. “I don’t understand Sam. I don’t understand why this is happening, why we can’t just go back to California together and fix this.”
“Some things are too broken to be fixed, Danny,” she says softly before she turns and walks to the door.
She lingers with her hand on the knob but doesn’t turn around to look at me. “I’m going for a walk. If you decide you want to leave, please be gone before I get back. You can take the car to the airport and I’ll pay for your flight back to Maui. I’ll get online in the lobby tonight and have the ticket booked before you get to Auckland.”
“Sam, wait,” I say. “We’re not done. You can’t—”
I break off as she closes the door behind her, leaving me alone in the cabin where just this morning I was sure I’d woken up with everything I really needed in my arms.
But now my arms are empty and my heart hurts so bad I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the night.
Eight Years Ago
Danny
“Smiles form the channels
of a future tear.”
-Lord Byron
It’s raining on my second day at the new school in Maui, a pummeling rain that sounds like a million tiny fists slamming into the roof of the car. The sky is so dark it feels like nighttime and the palm trees are thrashing back and forth in the wind like they’re trying to pull up roots and fly away into the black sky.
It’s a depressing day, and all I wanted to do this morning was stay in bed.
Instead, I had to get up at six to give my little niece Emmie a bath while Caitlin changed her soaked sheets.
Ever since Caitlin’s boyfriend died this summer, Emmie’s been wetting the bed. I don’t think Emmie understands what happened to Gabe—she’s just a toddler—but she can sense how fucked up and sad Caitlin is. My big sister cries herself to sleep every night. She thinks we can’t hear, but the walls in our old house were thin and now she’s sleeping in the same room with me and Emmie until the bedroom furniture she ordered is delivered next weekend.
Last night Caitlin didn’t make a sound, but I could feel the bed shake when she started to cry. I’m on the top bunk; she’s on the bottom, but she’s not so far away I couldn’t feel her sadness pushing up through my mattress, seeping into my skin, making me feel like I wanted to jump out of bed and punch the wall a few hundred times.
I’m so fucking pissed off, but not at Caitlin, or Emmie, or even my brother Ray, though he’s been a pain in the ass know-it-all lately. I’m pissed off at everything, the entire stupid world that created people like my dad and the man who kidnapped Caitlin when we lived in South Carolina. I’m pissed at people who leave, people who lie, and people who die just when you’re starting to think they might be there for you and that you might end up having a normal family with two almost grown-ups in it you can count on.
Instead, I’ve got a big sister who’s falling apart, a baby niece who stinks up my room every night, and a new school filled with assholes who want to beat the shit out of me. Yesterday, I pegged the two guys who are going to try first. I saw them eyeing me during lunch, sizing me up over their luau pork, or whatever the hell the cafeteria slopped onto our trays. I had barely tasted mine or had a chance to enjoy the novelty of actually paying for lunch, instead of getting it for free because my family is so poor. I was too busy keeping watch on the rest of the lunchroom, wondering how I was going to earn my first trip to the principal’s office.
I’m going to end up there sooner or later. I don’t take shit from anyone, and when you refuse to take shit, you inevitably end up dishing it out.
“Be good today, okay?” Caitlin turns to look at me over her shoulder as she pulls up to the curb outside school, practically shouting to be heard over the rain. “You don’t have to make friends, but don’t make enemies, okay? Okay, Danny?”
“Okay! Jesus.” I roll my eyes as I reach for my belt, hating that my big sister can read my mind.
I’m sick of her being in my head. I’m sick of this family and all our stupid problems. I’m sick of bad luck, but I don’t trust the good luck that’s found us lately.
The mystery relative, the house in Hawaii, the grocery money that’s suddenly in abundant supply after years of scrimping to afford mac ’n’ cheese—it makes me so nervous I wake up in the middle of the night freaked out and can’t get back to sleep.
The only thing worse than being at rock bottom is wondering how long you’ll get to enjoy the easy life before it’s ripped away and you find yourself back where you started.
“Bye bye!” Emmie waves goodbye as I open the door and jump out into the rain, but I don’t stop to wave back the way I usually would. The second I step outside, I’m already half soaked. By the time I reach the overhang near building one, the pounding drops have finished the job.
I curse softly as I start down the concrete path, my tennis shoes squishing with every step. My clothes are glued to my skin and despite the warm temperature, I’m freezing by the time I get to the basketball courts where we’re all supposed to hang out like some big happy family until the first bell rings.
There’s a giant metal thing—almost like part of an airplane hangar—that covers the courts and blocks the wind from one side, but the wind is coming from the other direction today. When I find an abandoned place on the wall to lean against, I have to fight the urge to shiver. I cross my arms at my chest, grit my teeth, and narrow my eyes, refusing to let on that I’m cold. I know better than to show weakness on the second day of school.
I’m still new enough to attract attention by simply existing in the same space as these people who have known each other—and the social order of this group of losers—their entire lives. I can’t let my guard down until I’ve made my place in this eco-system clear. I may be a runt and one of the smallest kids in school, but I’m a predator.
I’m at the top of the food chain, and the best call any of these punks can make is to stay the hell out of my way.
“You’re in my English class, right?” The girl walking by stops, cocking her head as she glances my way. She’s got crazy, fuzzy, almost-black hair and her mouth is too big, but she’s pretty, not the kind of girl who usually talks to runts like me.
“I like your shoes,” she adds, nodding toward my one-stars.
She’s probably trying to be a Good Samaritan, or win “Most Liked” at the end of the school year and get her picture in the yearbook, or something lame like that. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to her. At least I know a girl in a fluffy black dress and combat boots probably isn’t going to try to kick my ass.
“Yours too.” I glance at her boots with the chain at the top. “Like the hardware.”
She smiles and her pretty face becomes beautiful. “Thanks, me too. I sewed it on myself.”
“Cool,” I say stupidly, because I can’t think of anything better to say. I can’t look away from her face, either. There’s something about this girl that makes me feel all…upside down inside. Something in her eyes, in that vulnerable, focused way she’s looking at me that makes me want to drop my guard.
But I should know better. Dropping my guard has only ever led to one thing—trouble.
“Hey kid, got any money?”
The voice comes from my other side, the flank I left unguarded while I was talking to Boot Girl. I glance over to see the big, mountain-shaped guy with the fuzz moustache who was staring at me in the lunchroom yesterday and his sidekick, a shorter kid with a thick neck and shoulders twice as wide as mine.
The big guy’s brown eyes are flat as his gaze slides from my face to the backpack slung over my shoulder, but the shorter kid is grinning and shifting from one foot to the other, obviously itching for an excuse to take what his bully friend wants if I don’t hand it over.
“Yeah, I’ve got some money,” I say
, forcing a smile.
“Good,” Mountain Boy says, holding out one bloated hand. “Give it to me.”
“I have a better idea, why don’t you go fuck yourself.” Electricity crackles in my muscles as I prepare to fight, to draw as much blood as I can before these two take me down. I’m not stupid enough to think I can take them both, just hoping I can do enough damage that they’ll decide to pick an easier target next time.
The muscled kid laughs. “You’ve got a big mouth for a little kid.”
“I also hit pretty hard,” I say, smile still in place, refusing to show fear.
“Oh yeah?” Muscled Kid’s smile fades. “I bet I hit harder.” He takes a step toward me.
I’m about to drop my backpack and go for his gut, when suddenly I’ve got a mouthful of fuzzy black hair.
I sputter and step back to see that Boot Girl has wedged herself between the kid coming to pound my face and me.
“Leave him alone, Lono,” she says. “It’s only his second day.”
Lono scowls. “Get out of the way, Shark. I don’t mind hitting girls.”
Boot Girl stands up straighter. “I’m not moving. I’m not going to stand here and watch you hurt someone.”
Lono shrugs and pulls his arm back. He moves so fast there isn’t time to shove Boot Girl out of the way before the kid’s fist flies out, catching her in the gut. She doubles over with a cry of pain and I swear I feel that sound like I was the one who got sucker punched.
That asshole punched a girl!
A girl half his size who hadn’t done shit to him!
It’s all the spark I need to make the anger inside me detonate.
I hurl my body at that kid like a bomb and explode all over his ass. My fists fly so hard and fast, I’ve got him backed halfway across the concrete at the edge of the basketball courts in thirty seconds and on his back not long after. He fights back the best he can while he’s pinned. I feel his punches connect with my ribs and stomach a few times, but I don’t let them slow me down. I keep pounding on him like it’s my reason for living, the sound of the girl’s cry of pain echoing in my ears, making every suffering sound I draw from the bully beneath me that much sweeter.
Broken and Beautiful Page 30
