When the Truth Unravels

by RuthAnne Snow

  Silence.

  “So, if I told you I liked you, you’d say you didn’t feel the same way?” Teddy said finally.

  I blinked and turned toward him. “Are you serious?” I said finally.

  “Of course I’m fucking serious,” Teddy snapped. “Why does every girl I say that to respond with, ‘Are you serious?’”

  I flinched. “Don’t,” I said, my voice shaking. “Don’t compare me to Rosie when you’re telling me you like me.” I stopped, unable to say anything else as my throat choked closed.

  Teddy stood and walked over to me. I refused to look up at him, biting the inside of my cheeks.

  He sat beside me. Not touching me.

  “I like you,” he whispered—whether it was to me, or to himself, I didn’t know. “It’s not because of Rosie. It’s because I like you.”

  Slowly, like he would bolt if I moved too quickly, I turned to look at him. I forced myself to say it. “What about Rosie?”

  Teddy swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat. “Rosie always felt … expected. Like she was my missing piece.”

  I stared at my shoes and Teddy shook his head beside me. “No, that’s not right. It’s like … it’s like all four of you are my missing pieces. Jenna has always been with Miles, Elin’s with Ben, and you were out of my league. I just assumed it was going to be me and Rosie. I never thought about another girl until she said no. And when she did … tonight, when Jenna said what she said, I thought you ran off because you were embarrassed for me.”

  I stared out at the street, the old-fashioned lampposts casting long, skinny shadows on this long, skinny street. “You think I’m out of your league?” I whispered.

  Teddy bumped his shoulder against mine—friend move. “Ket. Duh. You’re gorgeous and funny and three inches taller than me. Of course you’re out of my league.” He put his hand on the edge of the step, fingers brushing mine.

  Not a Friend Move.

  “Were you really going to have sex with Vaughn tonight?” Teddy asked suddenly.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep away the chill. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t think of what else to do.”

  Teddy said nothing, just stared up at the moon. I hadn’t realized until just now—the clouds had finally dissipated.

  “There’s one thing I should say,” I said finally. “What Jenna said tonight about my ‘act.’ It’s only partly true. I’m not embarrassed that I like sex. I’m not embarrassed people know that about me. I’m just embarrassed that I’ve had sex with guys like Vaughn. Because that was seriously, seriously the worst call on my part.”

  Teddy bumped his shoulder against mine again, but then stayed within an inch of my side. Friend-Not Friend.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, impatient for his reply. “So?”

  “So what?” Teddy whispered.

  “Soo, do you really want to date a super slut like me?” I asked, my voice deliberately light.

  Teddy froze next to me. “Ket. Don’t say stuff like that about yourself. I would like you no matter what. You should like you, too.”

  I sucked in a breath. “I like you,” I whispered.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  I just told Teddy Lawrence I liked him.

  Teddy Lawrence.

  I turned toward him. Teddy leaned in. His face was inches from mine.

  I jerked back. “Wait. I have to clarify one thing.”

  Teddy stared back at me. “Okay.”

  “So you forgive Rosie?”

  I expected him to roll his eyes at me, but he never broke his gaze. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said simply. “She didn’t like me. And anyway, she was right. We would have been awful.”

  I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile. “So you guys are friends?”

  Teddy cracked a rueful smile. “If she wants to be friends after I was such a little bitch.”

  I pressed my forehead against his, our fingers tangled together. “She wants to be friends,” I whispered. “I’ve got her friendship power of attorney.”

  His face tilted toward mine.

  The front door crashed open and we jerked apart.

  Jenna stood in the doorway, her skirt glowing a flaming pink around the edges. Nonsensically, my brain scrambled for an excuse—we weren’t doing anything, I swear! But Jenna stared right through us, like she didn’t even register.

  She stumbled down the stairs to sit beside us, not bothering to shut the door. “I want to go home,” she said, her voice raw. “Can one of you drive me?”

  I patted her on the back awkwardly, glancing over at Teddy. Half his face was illuminated by the golden glow in the hallway, the other half in shadow, the moonlight unable to compete. He wore an unreadable expression. “Yeah, of course,” I said to her, looking at him. I bit my lip, one eyebrow raised.

  To Be Continued?

  Teddy nodded, almost imperceptibly, and I grinned. He may have told me that he liked me five minutes ago, but I still couldn’t quite believe it wasn’t a total hallucination on my part.

  Teddy and I helped Jenna to her feet as I felt the vibration of a text message coming in from my phone. I struggled to pull it out of my bra and swipe it open as the three of us made our way down the walk.

  And then I came to a halt, Jenna stumbling slightly beside me. “What?” asked Teddy.

  “You guys are not going to believe this,” I said.

  44

  Rosie Winchester

  April 19, 1:30 AM

  I was turned in my seat, shoes kicked off and my knees tucked up. I had placed my cheek against my headrest. FDR sat across from me, his posture mirroring mine. Between us sat two bags of fast food trash, smelling of sugar and salt and fried fat.

  We were a few feet apart, but it felt like we were even closer than we’d been in the closet. There was something weirdly intimate about sitting across from him, him not breaking eye contact with me.

  I supposed that’s sort of normal after you make out with someone for an hour.

  We had finally stopped kissing when FDR heard my stomach growl. “Are you hungry?” he’d asked, pulling on his seatbelt and turning the car back on.

  “I’m not,” I’d lied, just as my stomach released an enormous gurgle. He’d raised an eyebrow at my stomach, and I’d wrapped my arms around it defensively.

  “I’m buying you dinner,” he’d said. “Would you put your seatbelt on, please? I’ve kind of got a thing for safety.”

  I’d paused, intending to argue with his claim that he’d buy me dinner, but distracted by the seatbelt thing. (Safety first.) But when we pulled up to the Wendy’s drive-thru, I’d tried to stop him from paying. FDR responded by grabbing my purse and tossing it in the backseat. “Is it just physically impossible for you to let people be kind to you?” he’d asked.

  I’d smiled despite myself. “Sometimes,” I admitted.

  “That’s going to be a problem,” he’d said as he handed me my food, his eyes literally twinkling as he studied my face. “Because I really like taking care of the people I like.”

  And for some reason, I smiled instead of shutting down. “Me too,” I admitted.

  “Well, here’s to that then,” he’d said, raising his frosty cup. I clinked mine against his. And then he took the longest possible route to Elin’s house.

  The night that Teddy told me how he felt about me, I felt … panic. Like this was the worst thing that could have possibly happened. And even though my life had been darker even since Teddy had removed his friendship from it, I knew that I had made the right choice. Teddy and I were not going to work. I was not going to work like that.

  Ket and Jenna and Elin had not understood. Like Teddy, they seemed to think that all my grim messed-upped-ness was the perfect match for Teddy’s. I didn’t even know how to try to explain that every instinct I had said otherwise. Just … no. How did anyone suddenly see a friend, practically a brother, as someone you wanted to … date? It felt weird to even th
ink about.

  Sitting across from FDR, I finally recognized the feeling that had plagued me every time I met FDR’s eyes.

  It was the exact opposite of the feeling that told me Teddy was wrong for me.

  “So what are you waiting for?” FDR asked, nodding toward Elin’s parents’ house.

  I fiddled with my seatbelt. “To get brave, I guess.”

  FDR smiled faintly and said nothing.

  I’d been so wrapped up in kissing FDR that I hadn’t even noticed that Ket had texted me, telling me that Elin hadn’t showed up for Fisher’s afterparty. That my chosen deadline of midnight had come and gone, and we still had no idea where our friend was.

  “What’s your real name?” I said finally, still staring up at the house.

  FDR grinned. “You won’t believe me if I tell you,” he said.

  I’d always thought those moments they talk about in books and movies—the moments that last an infinity within mere seconds—were exaggerating.

  But that moment before I turned around to look at FDR?

  It lasted a delicious infinity.

  “It’s Lincoln,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Lincoln Baer. But you can keep calling me FDR if you want.”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh. “Seriously?”

  He laughed. It was wild—I had never been so worried in my life, over Elin, over Jenna and Ket, and yet as Lincoln smiled at me and I grinned back, I felt a weight I hadn’t even realized was there fall off my shoulders.

  “I’m going to wait here for you,” he promised.

  I took a deep breath, my smile fading a little, but I straightened my shoulders. “Thanks,” I said. I opened the door, putting one foot on the sidewalk. The combination of the heat of the car and the cold April air made me light-headed. Shivers ran over my skin, and I looked up at the Angstroms’ house. I’d give anything to delay this moment.

  I turned to FDR—Lincoln—one more time. “I’m glad I got to know you, Lincoln Baer,” I said.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Give me your phone number, Rosie Winchester.”

  I refused to allow myself to smile. “What are you going to do with that?”

  He lifted one shoulder, a luxurious shrug. “I’m going to ask you on a date,” he said. Like it was no big thing.

  Which I guess … it wasn’t.

  I didn’t know whether I should smile or laugh, so I just nodded. “Give me your phone,” I said, and I saved my number in it myself.

  Lincoln stared at me, a half-smile on his face. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. He and Fisher had the same resting expression—like they were always looking for the bright side of things, no matter how dark it was. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

  And even though I knew there was no way he could guarantee that, I believed him.

  I pulled Lincoln’s jacket tighter and took off my shoes to walk up the Angstroms’ path on bare feet. It was cold, but I couldn’t stand the pinching any longer. I swallowed, wondering what I was going to say to Elin’s parents.

  (Sorry we lost your daughter?)

  (Sorry we let her steal a car?)

  (Sorry she doesn’t know how to return a text?)

  I tried to imagine how my parents would react to finding out I had helped my suicidal friend sneak out of the house for prom, and then lost her. I tried, and failed. The only one I could visualize was Will, and I didn’t like to think about Will being disappointed in me.

  That’s when I saw it. A faint, flickering light coming from the backyard.

  Coming from Elin’s treehouse.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered.

  And I pulled out my phone to text Jenna and Ket about everything.

  45

  Elin Angstrom

  April 18, 8:07 PM

  “Hey, Elin!”

  Elin turned. Miles was walking toward her, waving cheerfully, a wide grin on his face. Dress slacks and a dress shirt, no tie or coat. “Have you seen Jenna?” he called. “I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”

  She forced a smile, trying to shake thoughts of Ben out of her head. “I’m sure she’s off saving the day somewhere,” she said. “I’m looking for Ket. I think Rosie and I might split, get some dinner, pick up J when she’s done with all this.”

  Miles hesitated. “E … can I ask you something? It’s about Jenna. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  Elin glanced behind her. A few girls were waiting in line for the ladies’ room—a few guys milled around, waiting for their dates. None of them were paying attention. “Sure,” she said, leaning against the wall, matching Miles’s stance.

  Miles’s eyebrows knitted together, forming two wrinkle lines on his forehead. “I don’t know what happened … at the beginning of March,” Miles said softly. “But … did it involve Jenna?”

  Elin felt the color wash out of her face, like she was a faded chalk drawing on the sidewalk and someone had taken a hose to her. “What?”

  “Jenna has been acting so weird,” Miles said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, a worried look on his face. “I mean, she’s always intense, but she calms back down, you know, once her project is finished or whatever. Now it’s like she’s been getting more and more wound up for weeks, and there’s no … release.”

  “I don’t … are you sure?” Elin said. “Jenna is always …” She trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence.

  Nuts?

  Crazy?

  Psycho?

  Suddenly the descriptors they’d always used to describe that special brand of Jenna-ness seemed so off.

  Miles nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve been waiting for her to tell me what’s wrong, but I don’t think she’s going to. I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now—”

  “Why me?” Elin interrupted. Too loud. Too defensive. Miles glanced over her shoulder and she turned around. A few of the kids had been looking in their direction, but they stopped once they were caught.

  Elin turned back to Miles. He looked uncomfortable, but he soldiered on. “It’s fine with me if you want to keep … whatever it is … a secret,” Miles said softly, and Elin nodded. “But if it involves Jenna, you’re the only person who would tell me. Rosie and Ket won’t, you know that.”

  A faint, bitter smile skittered across Elin’s lips. Wouldn’t they? Even though he and Rosie were fighting, it sure seemed like Teddy knew, every time he looked at her with his perma-sad eyes. As for Ket, how was Elin supposed to know she hadn’t told more people than Vaughn?

  Jenna’s parents told Elin’s teachers, Ket’s parents, and Rosie’s mom and stepdad. And now Elin’s parents, who had been friends with Jenna’s parents since before she was born, weren’t even speaking to them.

  But … Miles didn’t know.

  Which means that Jenna didn’t tell him. Jenna, who told Miles everything.

  Which means that of all the people who knew, only Jenna had managed to keep Elin’s biggest secret to herself.

  And if Miles was right, and Jenna had been spinning out of control, ever since March …

  It was Elin’s fault.

  And if Elin told him, Miles would know that.

  Elin plastered a smile on her face. “I’m sure it’s just planning prom and track and stress about AP tests coming up,” she lied. “I bet you anything she’s better tomorrow, with all this off her plate.”

  Miles smiled in relief, because Miles always believed the best of others, even liars like Elin. He said something, and Elin said something in reply, but her mind was light-years away. He needed to get back to his game, and he waved as he turned down the hall.

  Elin turned, blinking. Trying not to burst out laughing, which was the last thing she wanted to do. But sometimes, it seemed like she didn’t have control over her laughter any more than she could control her anger or her tears.

  Ben and I are not getting back together, she thought, all thoughts of sushi and the dance erased from her mind.
/>   Ket had told Vaughn, who would tell everyone.

  Nothing was going back to the way it used to be.

  But worse than all of that.

  Jenna was not okay.

  46

  Jenna Sinclair

  April 19, 1:15 AM

  Teddy helped me up to one of the guest rooms in Fisher’s condo. I felt boneless, weightless. He tucked a throw blanket around me, over my giant stupid dress, saying nothing before he walked softly out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

  The last thing I wanted to do was dream. I knew what was coming.

  But I was just so damn tired.

  Capitulate: surrender under agreed upon conditions.

  BEFORE

  March 6, 8:50 PM

  I pulled up to Elin’s house and put my car in park, stifling a yawn. For a second, I thought about calling Elin, asking if she could just run my copy of Frankenstein out to me, but she’d stayed home from school today with cramps. I turned the ignition off and climbed out of my car—no sense in bothering her when I’d been letting myself in and out of the Angstroms’ house since I was eight.

  I punched the code to the Angstroms’ garage—2232 for Aron, Cat, and Elin Angstrom—and yawned again as I waited for the door to rise enough for me to duck underneath. I was so tired, I couldn’t believe I agreed to an evening prom committee meeting on the same day I’d had an early morning officers’ meeting and track practice.

  The foyer was dark, so I flipped on the lights in the kitchen as I made my way to Elin’s room. I didn’t hear anything, not even the TV, and hoped that she hadn’t already gone to bed. I expected her to be up watching America’s Next Top Model or something. I was bursting with stories about Hannah Larson—and because Hannah had not-so-subtly been after Ben all year, Elin disliked her even more than I did.

  I knocked softly on Elin’s door. I couldn’t tell if there was any light coming through the cracks. I frowned. Should I just come back the next night? But I was scheduled to babysit the Monroe twins the following day, and I wanted to finish reading during their nap so I would be ready for the quiz on Monday.

  I turned the knob and stepped inside. “E?” I said softly, flipping on the light. And blinked in surprise.