“Be like what? Nobody believes me!” she says loudly.
“Gracie,” her sister chastises. “Now you know that isn’t fair. You’ve done a lot of shit in the past to make it hard to believe you. The only way to get people to start believing you is by doing what it takes. Telling the truth, proving yourself. Getting defensive and fighting the whole way will not help your case.”
Gracie stares at her sister for a long moment, silent as if she’s rolling over the words in her mind. Finally, she turns and looks pointedly at Devon. Devon clears his throat and rubs his chin, nodding in agreement.
“She’s right, Gracie. You have to do what you have to in order to prove the truth.”
Her eyes flicker down and catch sight of our hands together. This time, she looks at me, and I swear I detect the corners of her lips twitching. She doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, Gracie turns back around and plops back in the chair that forces her to face us. I grimace. I feel so bad for her having to sit front and center. It must feel demoralizing.
The tearing of paper draws me back to Gracie’s sister, who’s now holding a strip test. She’s bent over the table, and the piss cup is open as she dips the strip in. It kind of reminds me of a pregnancy test. I only know that from the scare a girlfriend and I had in high school, something my parents will never know about.
“How long do we have to wait?” their mother asks, sounding flustered, maybe a little jittery.
I watch the test, trying to pretend that I’m not watching what I am watching. As I tear my eyes away from it, I catch Gracie watching the test as well. Her foot is jiggling, her fists clenched in her lap. I give in this time. Taking my hand out of Devon’s, I get up and round the table, stopping in front of Gracie. I can practically hear everybody in the room catch their breath as they watch me. I hold out my hand and wait until Gracie reaches up, a little hesitantly, placing her palm in mine. I tug her up and pull her into my arms, holding her tight to my chest and pressing my chin on the top of her head.
Her arms wrap around my waist almost instantly, and I feel her nails dig into my back as she clings to me. Her shoulders don’t quiver in silent sobs, but I’m pretty sure that if I let her go now, she’s going to lose it.
“It’s done,” Gracie’s sister announces.
Gracie pulls back, her jaw set, as she turns to her sister. I also turn, feeling Devon’s eyes on me but ignoring him.
I still don’t know Gracie’s sister’s name, and I don’t think now is the time to ask. I watch as she holds up the test and turns to face her parents. Their dad gets up first and approaches her, looking down at the test.
His bushy eyebrows burrow together in confusion, and he shakes his head, looking as if he’s struggling to come to terms with whatever the results are.
“Reuben,” Heidi demands. “What are the results?”
“They’re negative, mom,” Gracie’s sister answers and turns to face us. “How is it negative?”
I blanch. She can’t be serious, can she?
“What?” Gracie asks, sounding choked. “It’s negative because I haven’t done any drugs. I’m fucking sober, Tris!”
The sister, whose name I now know is Tris, shakes her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been acting weird—”
“Because I’ve been trying to get my life on track. There isn’t a fucking guidebook for this shit. There’s also not a guidebook to tell you how to deal with shit like love and the fact that I want to be with multiple guys, not just one. Do you even know how confusing that is? No, because you have Chase. All you need is Chase. All any of you have ever needed is one person by your side, and I feel like a fucking freak wanting more than one, more than even two. You don’t know how hard it is to stay sober and feel like a stranger inside yourself.”
Tris glowers at Gracie. “I’m sober too—”
“From drinking, Tris. That’s completely different than drugs, and you damn well know that. I have nothing. When you got sober, you had your husband, kids, and everybody ready to support you.” She waves her hand around dramatically. “This never happened to you. You relapsed, and everybody was sympathetic because of what happened to you before that. Everybody even thinks I relapse and flips out on me. You have no idea what I have to go through, so don’t pretend you do.”
Tris opens her mouth to say something but then snaps it closed again. Gracie wheels around and leaves before anyone says or does anything, including Devon and me.
When the door slams shut, I let out a slow breath to have something to do for a moment, and then I speak. “She really is trying. I know I don’t know her like the rest of you, but she is trying,” I tell them.
I drop my gaze to her mom again. She’s slumped in her chair, face in her hands. Her father is still standing, staring at the door Gracie had left.
“Then what about the drugs? The test was negative,” he says that confusion still riddling his face.
“Somebody’s setting her up,” Devon pipes up. “Either that or she’s holding for whatever reasoning.”
I shake my head vigorously. “I don’t think she’s holding. I don’t know a lot about addiction, but I doubt an addict could hold and keep themselves from using.”
“Biker boy has a point,” Tris huffs. “Something else is going on.”
This time, I look right at Owen. He hasn’t spoken or moved through the whole ordeal. His face is cloudy this time, though, jaw set, ticking. He looks like he’s about to explode. His clenched fists in his lap even say so. He catches my eye, and a trickle of ice sweeps down my spine.
“I have to go,” Owen says and stands, not even waiting for anybody to say anything as he quickly leaves.