Sloane stopped right beside me and angled her slender body toward him with her arms crossed over her chest, too. “Yeah, no thanks to you. I have no doubt in my mind that you had something to do with what happened.”
With what happened. Sloane was referring to my suicide attempt. My heart screamed inside my chest with the realization that everyone at this school thought I had tried to end my own life and that I had done it because of Cade. Does he think that? Does he think I tried to kill myself because he stood me up?
My brows furrowed as I moved my gaze from Sloane’s little sparring match to Cade’s very alive stare. His entire body was facing me, as if Sloane wasn’t three feet away from him, spewing insults. “Trust me,” he whispered, placing his hands back in his pockets and slowly walking backward. I ignored the jab of pain I felt with his departure. It was like my entire soul had sung for him, and now it was screaming because he was leaving. The gap was forming again, and I needed to leave it open. Just before he got too far away, he finished his thought. “I know it’s all my fault, Sloane. You should fucking know that by now.”
Then, he spun on his heel and left me pushed up against my door with my heart in my stomach. Sloane stood beside me, as if she was my bodyguard, with her small hands bundled by her sides, until Cade was long gone, likely headed to his lacrosse practice that I knew he was now late for. Watching him walk away made me realize how much I missed him. How much I missed the way he made me smile and feel things other than the feeling of being jilted. I’d been abandoned when I was an infant, and it was a suffering that I had been surrounded in like a needle poking my skin every time I let myself feel.
“Are you okay?”
A shaky breath floated out of my mouth, and I nodded curtly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Silence was shared by both of us. A jutting, painful, awkward silence that I hated. My eyes dropped to the red floor, and when I slowly peeked back up, I saw Sloane in a different light than before. Vulnerability looked good on a tough girl like her. A girl who wasn’t intimidated by much—not even the Rebels.
“It’s not you, Sloane,” I admitted, thinking about our earlier conversation. It was something that I’d been thinking about since this morning at breakfast. I nibbled on my lip just like she was. “It’s me.”
Sloane dropped her gaze and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Journey.”
“What? You’re sorry? For what?”
My shields were still up, but they were shaking, like they were seconds from tumbling down.
“I should have been there for you.”
I reached forward unknowingly and grabbed onto Sloane’s warm hand. This feels right. “You were.” I squeezed once and let go quickly.
Sloane peeked up and shrugged. “Maybe. But not everything is what it seems on the outside, Journey.”
I huffed out a laugh, and Sloane’s lips twitched. “You have no idea how true that is.” I sighed, looking back down the hall again at Cade’s no-longer-there shadow. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you,” she started, bringing my attention back to her. “But do you trust me?”
Do I?
“Hey, Sloane! Are you ready?”
Sloane and I turned at the voice of Gemma leaving their room. She was standing in the threshold of their door, wearing two black stripes on her cheeks like a football player ready to take the field. Her warm, chestnut hair spilled out from beneath her black beanie with a fuzzy ball on top, and she was wearing a large jacket over a St. Mary’s t-shirt with Isaiah’s number in the center. How did I know it was Isaiah’s? He is number one, always. One of the first things I remember him saying when I met him.
“Yeah, I’m coming!” Sloane said, zipping up her jacket. She turned to me, and I saw the question before she said it. “Do you want to come to the game with us? We were gonna stop and get some hot chocolate from the dining hall before braving the snow to watch the guys.” There’s a game today?
I shifted uncomfortably at the hope in her eyes, knowing that Sloane was nearly begging me to go without actually doing so. “Still have the lunch ladies wrapped around your pretty little finger, huh?”
The white of Sloane’s teeth gleamed in the thick darkness of the hall. “Of course. You know I’m Betty’s favorite.”
“Come with us, Journey,” Gemma said, walking closer. “We can be stared at together. It’ll be fun!”
I nibbled on my lip again, feeling the familiar feeling of friendship bloom inside my dismantled chest. “I know why people are staring at me, but why are people staring at you?”
Sloane busted out a laugh. “Because someone let it slip that the headmaster is Gemma’s father, so now the entire school thinks that Gemma and Isaiah are incestuous.”
“What?” I said, mouth dropping.
Gemma rolled her eyes, pulling a pair of mittens out of her coat pocket. “Mmhm. Everyone knew that the headmaster was Isaiah’s uncle—”
“But they’re not blood related, right?” I knew that from when Tobias and I popped in unexpectedly a few weeks ago.
Gemma nodded, looking up from pulling her mittens on. “Yes, so take comfort in knowing you are no longer in the spotlight. Just me and my incestuous relationship.”
A laugh flew from my mouth without being quick enough to hold it back. Gemma and Sloane shared a look, and it reminded me of better times. Happier times. Before I was leery of everyone and their true intentions.
Gemma’s lips curved as she stared at me, probably knowing that I was teetering with the idea of falling into old friendships even if my guard was still up. “Now go get something warm to wear and come hang out.”
Sloane nudged me with her shoulder, softly coaxing me into hanging out. “You know Betty misses you. And I do, too.”
I bit my tongue. There were unwanted feelings swarming me from every direction, and my heart beat harder when I thought about sitting up in the high bleachers on the lacrosse field with the sun setting behind my back, watching the one boy who made my world spin down below.
Only this time, he wouldn’t be sending a hot grin in my direction followed by a wink that set my core on fire with anticipation. No, instead of that, this time I would be sitting in between two girls who didn’t know a single ounce of the truth, while looking over my shoulder at wandering eyes that could have been the catapult to getting me taken from St. Mary’s all those months ago.
No matter how comfortable I seemed being back at St. Mary’s, I would never be able to relax until I found out the truth.