“How did you cope in juvie?” I ask.
“By thinking about tomorrow. Each day that passed was one day closer to my release. No cage is forever, Beth. I tried to find one small thing that I could be grateful for each day, like the extra ten minutes of free time outside or a work release picking up trash or ice cream for dessert. That’s how I kept my sanity—I focused on one good thing instead of all the fucked-up stuff.”
One small thing.
Chase gets to his feet. “Lunch is almost over. We should get going.”
I stand up, too, but I’m not ready to go yet. Tentatively, I reach out and place my palm on his forearm. His breath hitches. After a long, long moment, he shifts his own hand so that his thumb is pressed against my wrist.
“Chase,” I start hoarsely.
“Is he bothering you?”
Scarlett’s high-pitched voice has me jumping in surprise. I swivel my head to find my best friend, hands on hips, at the other end of the aisle. I realize that from where she’s standing, it looks like Chase is gripping my wrist.
Apprehension darts through me. I could fess up and say I was the one who touched him. I was the one talking to him.
But the horror in Scar’s eyes triggers that shame I’ve been plagued with since the second I found out Chase was Charles Donnelly. Everybody hates him. I’m supposed to hate him. Jeff is handing out petitions. My parents are trying to get him kicked out.
The more contact he has with me, the bigger the target is on his back, which means the one small thing that gets him through this day and all the rest of the days before he graduates will be harder to find.
The best course of action I can take for both of us is to keep my distance from Chase.
His vivid blue eyes lock with mine. Clean, bright and full of permission, he gets what I’m about to do. It doesn’t make me feel better, though.
I mouth, I’m sorry.
Then I wrench my hand away. “I told you, I don’t want to talk to you,” I snap.
Scarlett rushes over and puts a protective arm around my shoulders. She glowers at Chase. She was so mad and prickly yesterday, so the solidarity she shows toward me now is touching. Like she’d actually fight him to protect me.
“Leave Beth alone,” she orders, and I’m touched again because she called me Beth. “It’s bad enough that she has to see you every day. Don’t you dare try to talk to her.”
One corner of Chase’s mouth lifts wryly.
Scarlett gasps. “Are you laughing at me? Oh my God! Leave Beth alone, you hear me?”
He lets out a breath and that almost smile fades. Then he walks away without a word.
The moment he’s gone, Scarlett frantically searches my face. “What did he want from you?”
“I don’t know,” I lie.
“Are you okay?”
I am not okay. I am truly awful. Chase just made me feel so much better about everything. He comforted me. He listened to me. And I repaid him by acting like he was a leper the moment someone saw us together.
“No,” I say, and it’s not a lie.
16
Even though Chase gave me silent permission, I still feel terrible about what went down in the library. I can’t stop obsessing over it, and my guilt is made worse during Music History when Troy Kendall goes in on Chase. For the entire class, the Manson comments come hard and fast, but Chase merely keeps his head down and stoically endures.
When Ms. Dvořák has her back to the class, Troy turns to me. “You sign Jeff’s petition yet?”
I ignore him.
“Hey, Lizzie, did you hear me?”
“Shut up, Troy,” Scar says. “Leave her alone. Can’t you tell she wants you to shut up?”
Thank you, Scarlett. I throw her a grateful look. She smiles and reaches over to squeeze my hand. Yesterday’s annoyance is gone, our misunderstanding obviously set aside.
“Thanks for helping me out,” I tell her after class.
“Of course. I’m your best friend.” She smooths my hair down. “I haven’t been a very good one, though.”
“No. It’s me who hasn’t been the good friend,” I protest.
“I was a total bitch to you yesterday,” she counters, looking genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry I snapped at you about the party.”
“What was that about anyway?” I have to ask. “One second you wanted to go, and the next you were all mad that Jeff was going.”
Scarlett sighs. “I’m gonna blame it on PMS. I’m supposed to get my period this week and I’m feeling so cranky.” She changes the subject by staring pointedly at my outfit. “You still haven’t explained the country-club look you’re rocking today. Whose clothes are those?”
“Jeff’s sister,” I admit. “The party ended up being a total disaster and I had to crash at Jeff’s house.” When her eyebrows soar, I say, “Long story. I’ll tell you later. But let’s just say that I don’t plan on going to another party with Jeff ever again.”
For some reason, she perks at that. But her tone is sympathetic as she says, “Aw, I’m sorry it sucked.” She eyes me hopefully. “We’re good, though, right?”
I haul her in for a hug. “Of course we are,” I whisper into her shiny hair.
“Are you two gonna start making out? If not, move your hot asses out of the doorway,” Troy says.
“Screw you,” I tell Troy, peeling myself away from Scar.
“I’m open. What time and when?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’ll take you both. My dick is long enough to satisfy both of you.”
God, Troy is gross. “That’d be half past never,” I reply.
Scarlett laughs behind her hand.
“I’ll see you at five. I’ll supply the condoms—” He breaks off as someone brushes by his shoulder hard, knocking him off balance. “Hey, fucker, don’t touch me.”
It’s Chase who bumped him. And Chase, in very Chase-like fashion, merely ignores the mouthy football player. I hastily step in front of Troy when it looks like he’s going to run Chase down.
“Five o’clock isn’t a good time. You have football practice,” I remind him.
He peers down at me, trying hard to catch a glimpse of my cleavage. Again, he’s gross. “Yeah, okay, but we can get together after. I know you girls like it when I’m sweaty.” He raises his arms and flexes.
How is it that Troy can be so unsexy, while Chase, who doesn’t even try, makes me tremble?
“Let’s go.” I grab Scar’s hand.
“What’re you doing tonight?” she asks as we leave a protesting Troy in our wake.
“Home,” I say glumly. “My parents expect me home every day after school.”
“Do you want a ride?”
“It’s out of your way.”
“So?”
“So...yes.”
We exchange smiles, but mine fades away faster than hers. The conversation I had with Chase in the library is still haunting me. I know that prison is supposed to be a punishment, but hearing him speak about it in such stark terms makes my heart ache.
I don’t believe Rachel would want everyone to be sad and suffering because of her death. She hated it when people were angry or upset. She was such a positive, peppy person, and she went out of her way to try to make people happy.
So I need to apologize to Chase, because even though shunning him is what he wants, it doesn’t feel right.
As Scarlett drives me home, I make a real effort to find out how she’s been. She’s going to visit Northwestern, even though she doesn’t think she’ll get in.
“It’s Dad’s dream school for me,” she confesses. “I don’t have the grades for it, but I know just visiting will make him happy. What about you? Still on for one of those beach schools? Have you resent those applications? You still have a couple weeks before the deadlines.”
“I’m mailing everything out on Monday.”
“Make sure you physically hand the envelopes to the mailman this time,” she advises.
“Trust me, that’s the plan. My parents don’t get to screw up my college prospects twice in one month.” Though if I do get accepted to any of those colleges, I’m not sure how I’ll ever convince Mom and Dad to let me go.
“Am I selfish for not wanting you to go away to a coast?” she gripes. “If you do, I’ll never see you.”
“Sure you will. We’ll come visit each other. And we can plan epic holiday reunions.”
“Oooh, or we can go away for the holidays. Girls’ trip to the Bahamas or Aruba or wherever, really. As long as it’s hot.”
“Deal.”
When she drops me off at home, she’s smiling, and I’m glad for that. Her PMS story isn’t entirely believable to me, but as long as we’re not bickering anymore, I don’t care what was up her butt yesterday. I’m just happy it’s not there today. Maybe today’s one small thing will be reconnecting with Scarlett.
Actually, no. My one small thing today is going to be apologizing to Chase. That’s going to make me feel better.
At my front door, I take a deep breath and start thinking of excuses. I’m going for a long walk. Like a really long, two-hour walk. I have a study group with... Not with Scarlett. I don’t want to use her. I don’t want to use anyone.
I walk into the house. It feels empty. “Mom?”
No one responds.
I wander through each room. “Mom? Dad?” My heart rate picks up. It’s eerily silent in here. I quicken my pace. In the kitchen, I find a note on the counter.
Dad has to make a special delivery of lumber to Prairie Hill tonight. He won’t be home until eight p.m. I’m heading back to the office to handle a work emergency. Back around seven thirty. We’re trusting you to stay inside.
I crumple the paper.
Good. I don’t need an excuse. I check the clock. It’s nearing four. I have four hours to get across town to the mayor’s house, which is five miles away. I should be able to make that in an hour. I run upstairs and change into a T-shirt, shorts and running shoes.