“Soph—”
“Dad had no idea how to comfort me. He was so lost himself. It took months for us to figure out how to live without you. And another year after that for me to accept you had left for good.”
She drops her hand, and I’m glad. Since that picture of Blake and me came out, people—my friends, my father, me—have compared me to her. Sophie Topper Quinn, an unfaithful slut like her mother. Sitting before her, I can see it’s not true. I’m nothing like her.
I would never walk away from someone who needed me. I stay. Even when things get bad, I stay.
Maybe I am my father’s daughter, after all.
“I think you should go,” I tell her. It’s what you’re good at.
The finality in my tone sinks in. She abandons her coffee and stands. “I know you don’t believe me, but I really did miss you.”
“You’re right,” I say, staring up at her. “I don’t believe you. You could’ve visited anytime. You didn’t. Like you said, you chose you.”
Her eyes widen, and pride straightens her back. “That’s not fair. I tried to visit.”
“Not hard enough,” I say flatly.
“Your father said—” She stops, biting off whatever she intended to say.
“My father said what?” I had no idea they spoke after she left.
She tenses, her face twisted with frustration or anger. I can’t tell which. When she does speak, she ignores my question. “I’m not going anywhere. Edward and I have moved back to North Carolina.” She drops a piece of paper on the table. “That’s my number. If you decide you want to see me.”
I ignore her and she finally takes a hint. I sense her walk away, but I don’t turn to watch her go.
Once was enough to last me a lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’ve never felt so disgusted with myself as I did the morning I woke up in Blake’s bed. I knew I’d made a mistake before I even opened my eyes. His body curved against my back, warming me where we touched. I lay there, confronting what I’d done and who I’d done it with. I’d used him.
Perhaps I should have been disoriented, wondering if it was Carey that I’d finally fallen into bed with. After all, I’d been dating him for two and a half years. But there was no mistaking the feel of that arm lying across my waist. Even in his sleep, Blake sent intense waves of emotion crashing through me. The night before, I’d welcomed all of it—the intensity and the heat. In the light of day, it overwhelmed me.
It took a full minute to slide out from under his arm, moving in millimeters to avoid waking him. I dragged my clothes and sorry self into the bathroom, relieved beyond belief when I didn’t bump into Blake’s brother on the way. Thank goodness his mother was out of town too.
Dressed in last night’s tank top and jeans and disgusted with myself, I wondered what I would say to Blake. If there were magical words to make this all go away without ruining the friendship we had. Then a new, unwelcome thought popped in.
Did I really want to forget last night happened?
Did I want to pretend I hadn’t seen a different side of Blake—a side of him that made me want to be the sort of girl that could inspire longing in his eyes? I could be that girl. Dangerous. Exciting. Something more than the goody-two-shoes, do-the-right-thing machine I’d become. Angel would never believe I’d gone to Blake after what happened with Carey last night. I almost couldn’t believe it myself.
Yet, I considered going back into Blake’s room and waking him to see if his kiss would feel the same in the morning light.
That’s when my phone rang.
I snagged it out of my pocket, nearly dropping it in the sink in my hurry to silence the ringer.
“Hello,” I whispered, expecting it to be my father checking up on me. Lucky for me, he would never know I’d stayed out all night since he’s stayed overnight on base. I’m not sure I would have survived that icy blizzard.
“Quinn, don’t hang up!”
Carey.
My gut twisted in a double knot. I had no idea what to say to him. The night before, he’d shredded me with his confession. This morning, I’d woken up in his best friend’s bed. Words failed me, so I said nothing and listened to him breathe on the other end of the line.
He took that as a good sign and continued. “I need to talk to you. Meet me?”
I didn’t answer for the longest time. Anger should have been my strongest feeling, but the night before had confused me, sending my emotions winding through a blender.
Standing there in Blake’s bathroom, staring at my disheveled reflection, I didn’t know how I felt.
“Please, Quinn,” he begged.
We couldn’t leave things like we had last night. Not with him deploying in a few short days. Better get this over with, I thought. Rip off the Band-Aid.
“Where?”
Thirty minutes later, I parked my Jeep at the edge of Grave Woods. I felt like hell for sneaking out of Blake’s house. I thought about leaving a note, but what could I say?
Hey, thanks! It was a blast. We should totally do it again. JK! I was just trying to feel better about myself and now I’m completely confused about my feelings.
Yeah, that would have gone over great. So I left Blake asleep in his bed and tiptoed out the front door.
I didn’t feel any better when I neared the cemetery in Grave Woods and found Carey waiting with his back to me. He’d heard me coming. I could tell by the intent way he cocked his head. Basic had changed him. He had a new alertness about him. A readiness to launch into action, as if he could handle whatever came his way. He’d always been confident. Cocky, even, about his physical ability, especially on a football field. But this quiet confidence was the sort that came from knowing you could handle yourself in a knife fight. The Marines could transform a person in that way. I’d seen it time and again in our town.
Carey the boy had left for basic training; Carey the man had returned in his place.
I didn’t know what to make of either of them.
“I went by your house again last night,” he said, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.
He evaluated me, trying to figure out where he stood. I’d taken that look for granted for years. The way he always paid such close attention to my needs and wants. He had a way of reading me, and I wondered if he could tell how I’d changed since he’d made his confession on the porch the night before. Would he even care? Maybe I should have considered why he’d been so attentive and asked for nothing in return. Perhaps a guilty conscience for lying to me?
“Yeah?” I said with belligerence.
He didn’t react to my snotty tone, but answered mildly, “I was worried. I upset you last night.”
I didn’t explain myself or tell him where I’d been. Maybe I’d made a mistake last night, but I no longer owed him anything. He’d betrayed me, not the other way around.
“Of course you upset me. Geez, Carey, you lied to me for ages.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “I know it doesn’t make things any better, but I didn’t mean to. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
I wanted to rage at him and make him feel as bad as I had. His apology and its obvious sincerity deflated my desire to shriek the forest down around him.
“You’re right. It doesn’t make things better.” I sighed, sinking to sit on the ground.
I know Carey, and I could see he wasn’t going to give me what I wanted—a screaming fight. He would let me yell at him, but he wasn’t going to engage. He’d already taken the blame and would accept what I dished out. Damn it.
“I hate you,” I said.
He gave me a half-smile, folding to sit near me, his back to Thomas’s headstone. “No, you don’t. You’re mad at me and you’re hurt, but you don’t hate me.”
He sounded so positive.
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’re my best friend, Quinn,” he answered with a shrug.
I slid forward onto my knees and slugged him as hard
as I could in the shoulder. He let me do it. Didn’t even try to stop me. Crying angry tears, I sat back again, shaking out my throbbing hand.
“You’re such an asshole,” I said, sniffing.
He nodded. “You’re right. Hit me again if you want. I can take it.”
Crying harder, I shook my head. “I don’t know you. I thought I did, but it was all a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Aw, Quinn . . .” He scooted closer to me. As if he knew the reception he’d get, he didn’t try to touch me, but he dipped his head to look me in the eye. “I love you. I didn’t lie about that. You and me, we’re more than last night.”
“You broke my heart,” I whispered.
“Did I?” he asked. His dark gaze wouldn’t let mine loose, as if he was daring me to tell the truth. Something we hadn’t done a lot of in a while, I realized. “You knew something wasn’t right with us.”
“No!”
He gave me a disappointed look. “Who’s lying now?”
“Shut up, Carey! You don’t get to be the upset one here!”
“You’re right,” he conceded again.
“Stop saying I’m right!” I shouted.
Cracks began to show in his calm surface, and he exhaled a frustrated breath. “I’m doing the best I can here. What do you want me to say?”
“The truth!” I’d had enough lies.
“Ask me a question, then!” he said, anger thrumming in his words.
I stopped. My mouth opened and closed several times. I couldn’t think of a single question that I wanted him to answer.
“You don’t want to know the truth, Quinn! It’s easier to just be pissed at me, isn’t it?”
He stood and stalked away from me. If it had only been anger in his eyes, I could have dealt with that. Anger for anger. But pain blanched his face. That was harder to ignore.
“How long have you known?”
My quiet question sounded loud in the crisp morning air.
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “A long time.”
“Why me?” My voice broke on the question, and he struggled to meet my eyes. “Two years you led me on, letting me think we had a future. That’s unforgivable, Carey.”
“Don’t you know how much I wanted that to be my future?” He spread his arms out wide. “Look at me! Do you think this is what I want? I’m in the military, for fuck’s sake! ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.’ What kind of life is that?”
“The one you’ve been living the past two years,” I accused. “I didn’t ask; you didn’t tell.”
My words hit him harder than my fist. I could see it in the way he flinched.
“You were wrong not to tell me.”
His chin dropped to his chest, the picture of shame.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted answers, not regret. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared.”
I rose and walked forward until I could feel his breath on my face. “Of what?”
He leaned toward me, resting his forehead against mine. “Losing you. We’re the perfect couple, right? What would I do without you, Quinn? You hold me together.”
I sighed. I knew what he meant. Once, during a football game, he’d taken a hard blow to the head from a huge linebacker. For a while, the doctors thought Carey might have some permanent vision damage. He’d been destroyed, thinking he wouldn’t be able to enlist after graduation. I’d held his hand through that crisis and others. We’d always gotten each other in a way others didn’t, even before we started dating. I couldn’t imagine losing him.
“Idiot.”
“I’ll apologize until you forgive me. You’ll see how I wear you down.”
And he would, too. Like water against stone. My insides twisted in a kaleidoscope of disappointment, anger, and sadness. Each emotion crystalline in its intensity, but no one emotion stronger than the others. My own reaction confused me. One thing was clear: I felt stupid.
“You didn’t answer my question. Do I have a target on my back? A sign that says ‘This loser’s gullible’?” I sounded pathetic. But how could I not have seen it?
Carey stroked my hair, tugging on a strand. “It wasn’t like that, Quinn. It took me a long time to accept that this isn’t something I can wish away or shut off. If I could choose anyone, it would be you.”
“Except you’re not attracted to me.”
“That’s not really a choice.”
I stepped away from him, but he tugged on my hand and continued, “Besides, if you’re honest, I think it goes both ways.”
I was quiet for the longest time. Yesterday, I would have denied his words until I was blue in the face. Then last night happened. Blake happened. His arms and the spidery thrill that webbed through me when his fingers trailed over my skin.
I’d never felt that for Carey.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. At his dark hair and dark eyes. Handsome and confident. His sturdy strength appealed to me, but that wasn’t the same as attraction. ‘Security’ wasn’t a word that made my heart beat faster.
His brows raised as he read my face. “Wow. You really don’t want me.”
I considered telling him about Blake, but part of me rebelled. The memory of our night together belonged to me, and I wasn’t willing to share it. But if I chose to tell anyone, it would have been Carey. When something happened to me, small or big, I told him. He was my person. Somehow, his revelation shifted everything except that. The knowledge came over me in a slow, painful crawl.
He’d hurt my pride and my feelings. I could punish him for hurting me. Or I could try to move past this.
Carey’s fingers sweated in mine. My silence made him nervous. I could feel it. Stepping outside myself, I tried to understand him. How scared he’d been to tell me the truth. How scared he still was that I’d reject him, despite his best efforts.
How much was our friendship worth to me?
I finally answered his question. “Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you, you really are ugly as sin.”
I’d surprised him into a laugh. “Shut up, Quinn.”
“No, seriously,” I protested. “Think Shrek. You’re like a half-step removed from being his ogre twin.”
My voice was muffled by his chest as he pulled me into a bear hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I rested against him, letting my tears dampen his T-shirt, finally letting go of what I’d thought we would become. Marriage, kids, all of it gone. I thought maybe he cried too, as he held me. Neither of us spoke for the longest time. It felt a little like someone had died, and he was the only one I would want to comfort me.
When I knew I could speak without falling apart, I pulled away and wiped my nose on my sleeve. I desperately wished I had a tissue.
Carey lifted a corner of his shirt and wiped my eyes. “Please forgive me,” he pleaded.
I sniffed as he mopped up the mess I’d made of my face. “I hate you,” I said again, without anger.
And we both knew that I meant the opposite.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We talked for two hours after that.
I yelled at him some more. Backed into a corner, he lashed out and then apologized for lashing out. And then apologized again for lying. At one point, I actually kicked him in the shin and he swore at me. Then I asked him how he knew he was gay. I tried to put myself in his shoes, and when I did that, I could understand why he wouldn’t come out. Not in our town.
We talked, but I wasn’t ready to hear about the guy he had feelings for. Nor did I try to tell him about Blake. That would have snapped the tenuous hold we had on our friendship, so we danced around those topics.
After we both cried again, I tried to convince him to give me his shirt to use as a Kleenex. It was his fault I was crying, right? When he refused and handed me a leaf instead, I punched him in the ribs. I remember thinking how much I would miss him when he deployed.
Carey did not ask me to keep his secret. Not then.
That came later that night, when he showed up in my room wit
h bruises all over his body and a bloody face. It turned out “Don’t ask, don’t tell” also meant “Don’t get caught.”
Carey broke that rule and paid for it.
* * *
Sometimes I wonder how Carey’s parents would have reacted if he’d told them the truth right away. Sure, his dad acted macho. A former Marine himself, plus the owner of the only auto shop in town kind of locked that in. He put a lot of pressure on Carey, pushing him to be more, do more. His mother worked long hours, teaching history at the high school and coaching the cheer squad. Like me and my father, his family sat down to dinner every night too. Aside from the fact that both his parents attended, the shining difference was the glaring love in his house.
If they cared about you, the Breens spilled that love all over you, making you feel it right down to your toes. Carey got his ability to love wholeheartedly from his parents. But I’m not sure he trusted them to treat him with the same affection if they found out that he was gay. Part of me thinks he betrayed them, too, with his lack of trust.
* * *
It’s Saturday and I’m still upset from the run-in the day before with my mother. So it completely figures that I run into Carey’s mom when my father drags me to the home-and-garden center two towns over. He’s determined to solve the puzzle of why his garden refuses to grow. Guilt gnaws at me. I decide to buy new bottles of weed killer and plant food to replace the ones I switched. That is, as soon as I can I abandon him in front of a table of kitchen herbs.
Mrs. Breen stands in front of a shelf of clay pots, which is right across from the Miracle-Gro. She sways slightly, her eyes staring blankly at the six-inch pots. I consider walking away, but something holds me there. This woman hugged me when I showed her my report cards. She listened to me complain about Nikki and comforted me when I fought with Angel. And when Carey and I began dating, she threatened him, telling him he’d better treat me right or he’d have her to deal with.
If I Lie Page 14
