“Xavier Emery! I’m talking to you!” she screeches.
I don’t flinch.
If she thinks “full-naming” me is going to do shit, she’s g
ot another thing coming. I sink deeper into the passenger seat, watching the only town I’ve ever known roll by through the car window.
The woman’s been hounding me with questions since she picked me up from the police station thirty minutes ago. I haven’t answered her once, but it’s become more than obvious that “giving up” isn’t a part of her vocabulary.
Between us… she’s also unfamiliar with the term “fidelity.”
“Xavier, did you hear me?” She grows impatient.
“I heard you,” I drone.
Satisfied, she continues to yell. “Do you even realize how lucky you are that Hank is close friends with Sheriff Daniel? He’s the only reason, and I mean the only reason, you were able to walk free today. Best I could’ve done is beg the sheriff not to charge you.”
I snort out a laugh.
Well, it sure wouldn’t be the first time you got down on your knees in front of another man this week, would it, Mom?
“I told you this Finn kid is a bad influence. Just like his older brother.” She checks herself out in the rearview mirror at a red light, wiping a smidge of lipstick from her mouth with her index. “I don’t care how long you’ve known each other. Or that your father and his are old friends. That family’s trouble. I wish the two of you would just cut ties with these people already.”
I bite down on my tongue so hard not to talk back I draw blood. A metallic taste floods my mouth, and I ball up my fists in an attempt not to blow the passenger door open and jump out of the car.
You really have no idea, do you?
I know what you did.
I know everything.
Hank’s question has been gnawing at me since I left the police station. Why are you acting out all of a sudden? This isn’t you. Maybe, subconsciously, I convinced myself that starting shit in my mom’s place of work was the next best thing to getting revenge on her.
To hurt her for what I saw.
But then… why do I still want to punch a hole through her windshield? Why can’t I stomach the thought of looking into my dad’s eyes? And why, fucking why, can’t I bring myself to tell him?
Mom tries forcing small talk for five more minutes before taking a hint. The remainder of the drive home is uneventful except for my phone pinging with a text from Finn just as we’re pulling into the driveway.
Finn: Thanks for what you did back there, man. I owe you one. Oh, and, just a heads up… You might want to check your girlfriend’s snapchat story.
Aveena
Three days later
“Brie’s Snapchat story?” A laugh shoots out of me as I shadow my best friend up the stairs leading up to her room. “No way?”
“Yes way.” Dia sneers. “It’s all everyone’s been talking about. I can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet.” Dia pushes the door to her closet bedroom and launches herself onto the single bed shoved into a corner. I’m not making fun of her room, it literally used to be a closet.
Dia comes from a family of six, and her dads ran out of room when they adopted their youngest last year, so they had to improvise. We’ll all be leaving for college in a few months, hence Dia giving her parents the green light to move her into this shoebox until then.
“Five bucks says Xavier dumps Brie for this.” Dia pats the empty space on her bed. “Get your ass over here.”
I oblige, sitting cross-legged on my best friend’s bed while she pulls out her phone and opens the Camera Roll.
“I screen-recorded her story before it disappeared,” Dia explains, scrolling through pictures of her and Finn smiling, hugging, kissing—mind you, these two are still claiming to be just friends. It takes her a moment to find it amongst all the cute couple shit.
“Gotcha,” she says and enlarges the video.