My heart shatters into a million pieces.
He shoves his feet into his boots and throws open the door, leaving before I have a chance to say anything else. I watch him go, and feel tears drip down my face. I didn’t want this to happen, I never wanted this to happen. This is the whole reason I’d put off telling him, because I didn’t want him to look at me with that heartbroken and betrayed face, didn’t want him to hate me—though part of me knew it was inevitable, that I was putting off something that was destined to happen no matter how he found out.
“That was uncalled for, Anna.” I hear Aiden chiding her. “Do you know how badly you just hurt him?”
“I probably shouldn’t have said that, but he needed to know anyway. You’ve been lying about Mason’s dad, and you’ve been lying about the twins. What else have you been lying about?”
I swipe the tears from my face and turn away from staring into the dark after Mason. I’m tempted to say “Everything,” because I have been lying about everything. What would she say if she found out my name isn’t even Amelia? Julian, Chase, Noah, and Charlotte are standing off to the side, frozen, not knowing what’s going on. We’ve never had a fight before. Aiden moves to stand in front of me, as if physically blocking Annalisa from looking at me will help the shattering of my heart.
“I think you should leave, Anna.” Aiden crosses his arms, leaving no room for argument.
Annalisa squares her shoulders. “Not until you promise to go to the cops and tell them that Jason and Jackson killed Greg.”
Aiden would never do that; it’s like she doesn’t know him. He’s going to protect his brothers at all costs or die trying.
“I promise you, Anna, I will not let Luke get sentenced for killing Greg. Just give us some time to figure out what to do. I’m not turning my brothers in.”
There’s a challenge in Annalisa’s eyes when she says, “And what’s stopping me from going to the police and telling them myself?”
I make eye contact with Noah, who mouths, “Oh shit.”
If looks could kill, the unwavering gaze Aiden fixes on Annalisa would obliterate her. “The police have actual evidence that could prove Luke did it. You think they’re going to believe you, Luke’s sister, who has no evidence, when you say two nine-year-olds killed Greg? Yeah, good luck.”
“What do you guys think?” Annalisa turns on our friends, who stare back at her with wide eyes.
Before they’re forced to pick a side, which will inevitably result in another fight, I say, “Why don’t we take some time to cool down and we can figure it out tomorrow? I think enough damage has been done for the night. Let’s just act like everything’s normal until we figure it out.”
Annalisa’s technically got a point. We should tell the police what really happened. But at the same time, Aiden would never let that happen because who knows what would happen to the twins? Nothing good, that’s for sure. It’s best to talk to Alan who can help Aiden figure out the best course of action to protect them.
“Unbelievable,” Annalisa scoffs, shoving her shoes on and walking out the door that was left open after Mason left.
Julian looks at Aiden, then after Annalisa. He moves to the door and hastily throws his shoes on.
“Sorry, man,” he says to Aiden. “You know I won’t say anything to anyone about this. But I’m her ride.”
Aiden nods, and Julian gives Aiden one of those clasped arms, bro hugs for support, slapping him on the back a couple times.
“It’ll be all right,” Julian tells him before leaving.
Then it’s just me, Aiden, Noah, Charlotte, and Chase, staring at each other, standing in the hallway in the shattered remains of our friendships.
“So . . .” Noah starts. “Is your mom really banging Brian?”
I burst into tears.
“Really, Noah?” Aiden asks, pulling me against him.
I started this night with great news that I didn’t even get to share, and I’m ending it with my friendships in disarray and the truth about Greg’s murder looming over us all.
The odds of getting through senior year as normally as possible with all my friends is looking slim to none now, and whatever control I have over my life is barely holding on by a thread.