That had been almost a month ago. Biting at my lip, I click on the last unopened message.
TO: Star2274
FROM: LuckNGlass
July 23
Sorry about the other messages. I know I’m being pushy, but I’m going crazy here. I think I have to move out. I don’t know what else to do. My dad’s hoarding is out of control. He’s spent all the money we have.
I don’t think I’m going to get to go to college anymore. Not the way I planned to, anyway.
Look, if you get this, can you please please reply? I’m losing my mind.
I hope cleaning out your mom’s house is going well.
All the best,
Glass
Shit, I think, and toggle the mouse over to the reply button. I’m about to click it when I hear a familiar voice, and my spine turns to steel. I look up from the screen and there, walking in the front door, is Lacey. Luckily, she doesn’t see me. She’s chatting away into her phone, grinning widely as she makes her way toward the line, looking like she’s on her way to spend the day at the beach. She’s got her long hair loose, falling in big waves around her shoulders, and a pair of what look like designer sunglasses perched on her nose. I can’t help but wonder how she can afford to look like that on a waitress’s salary, but there’s no way I’m going to ask. For one bright moment I think I’m in the clear. But then I realize that the line just happens to go right by my table. I stifle a groan and sink down in my seat. Maybe if I just don’t look, she won’t see me. Maybe she’ll just walk right by.
No such luck. Even with the sunglasses obscuring her eyes, I can tell the instant she sees me. Her entire body flinches and she stutters to a stop and goes silent. I can hear the sound of the person on the other end of the call asking in an annoyed tone if she’s still there, even from half a dozen feet away. She grimaces as she mutters, “I’ll call you back,” and ends the call, making a beeline toward me.
“Listen,” she says, plopping down in the seat across from me. I’m starting to think that this is kind of a thing with her. This aggressive no-introduction form of communication. She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. It takes actual physical effort not to jerk away like I want to. But we’re in a public place—extremely public, considering the way people are starting to turn and sneak peeks at us from the corners of their eyes—and it’s not like I’m the town’s favorite resident right now. Or ever, really. Actually, I’m pretty sure that I’m currently occupying the second-to-last spot in the popularity contest, as far as the town of Avenue is concerned. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I blink at her, confused. What the hell is she talking about? “For what?” I ask.
“Well, for the car, of course.”
What? I blink at her for a few seconds, certain that my confusion is clear on my face, but she doesn’t say anything further.
Okay, subtlety isn’t going to work on this girl. I lean forward and try to keep my voice low, so I don’t attract any more attention than we are already getting. “What are you talking about?”
She pulls her hands back from mine, eyes widening.
“You don’t know?” she says. “Oh my god. I thought for sure he would have told you?”
“What are you talking about, Lacey?” I ask. I don’t like the sound of this.
“Your friend’s car,” she starts, and then suddenly stops talking. She looks away, appearing to gather her thoughts for a moment, and then blows out a deep breath and looks back at me. “Preston and the guys. They were the ones who messed up your friend’s car.”
What?
“What?” I snap.
“Listen, it’s not what you think,” she says hurriedly, as though talking faster is somehow going to make me understand. “Preston was just worried about me.”
“How the hell,” I say, “can you say that? What the fuck does one thing even have to do with the other?”
“Oh god,” she says, reaching up and covering her mouth with her cupped hands. As I watch, her fingers curl in, and she’s pressing her fists against her lower lip. “Preston was just looking out for me, okay? He saw that your friend was always hanging around me, and he got scared. He wanted to scare him off before he did anything. To me.”
What.
The.
Fuck?
That’s it. I’ve had it with this fucking town. I shove back from the table, my chair making a god-awful screeching noise as it scrapes against the floor. People are turning in their seats to look at us. I don’t give a shit.
“And you actually bought that? That’s a load of crap, Lacey. First of all, Ash barely goes into the diner just because of the shit he’s gotten from people like your asshole boyfriend—”
“Hey!”
“I’m not finished!” I yell. Everyone is looking at us now. Good.
Good.
“First of all,” I repeat, more slowly this time. I lean forward, planting the palms of my hands against the table, to get in her face. “Ash never fucking goes near you. Second of all, Ash is not fucking dangerous. He made a mistake. He got in a car when he shouldn’t have and he drove when he shouldn’t have. He’s not a murderer. He didn’t go out there intending to hurt anyone. He made a mistake. And yeah, it was awful. It was heartbreaking. But that’s life. But you, little miss perfect, and your boyfriend wouldn’t know a thing about that, now, would you?”
Lacey’s sitting there, dumbstruck. Her mouth sort of sags open as she stares at me. But then she pulls in a breath, and starts to push forward, moving as though she’s going to respond. But I’m not done.
“Finally,” I snap before she can say anything. “Finally, how the hell do you get from your stupid boyfriend thinking that Ash could possibly be threatening to you, to him and his buddies beating the shit out of Ash’s car?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the three teenagers behind the counter hovering together, whispering. One of them kind of sighs and then his eyes dart over to me, and when he sees me looking at him, his entire body actually jerks. Great. Now I’m the crazy one. Those poor kids are probably over there drawing straws for who has to ask me to leave. Fantastic.
I turn back to Lacey, but my eyes can’t even focus on her. I’m just looking through her, like she doesn’t matter to me anymore.
And as I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down, I realize that’s exactly it.
She doesn’t matter.
None of these people do.
Only Ash and I matter. And that’s the way it should be.
“You need to get your life together,” I tell her and pull myself back into a standing position as I scoop my laptop off the table and snag my bag off the back of my chair. I shove the computer inside and pull it over my shoulder. “Because no one should think that what you and your little boyfriend did was okay.”
Then I pick my tea up off of the table, turn on my heel and walk out the door.
Ash
I hear Star’s car pull up in the driveway and I wipe the palms of my hands against my jeans for the millionth time.