Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Confession is supposed to be good for the soul, but mine’s shot full of holes. No part of letting my dad see me break felt like catharsis. And every time I look at my phone to see a message from RJ isn’t there, I curse myself for giving a shit. I knew better than to fall for the stranger in the woods.
How many times do I have to learn nothing good comes from opening my heart until I’m convinced it’ll only bite me in the ass?
“Sloane?” There’s a tentative knock on the door. My sister.
“Go away.” My voice is muffled against the pillow.
“No. I’m coming in.”
Without waiting for an argument, Casey marches inside, pausing only to close the door behind her. Then she’s on the bed beside me, pulling my face out of my pillow. “Hey,” she says softly. “Are you okay?”
A hysterical laugh bubbles out. “Not in the slightest.”
“I guess it was mostly a rhetorical question.”
I lift my head to find her lips twitching with humor. I almost laugh back, genuinely this time, until I remember why I’m crying in the first place. Why RJ can’t stand me.
Casey must see something in my eyes, because her forehead creases warily. “What?”
I exhale a slow, measured breath. “I slept with Fenn in junior year.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then she shrugs. “I know. He told me.”
Sheer outrage slams me up into a sitting position. “He told you?” I growl. “Seriously? He made a huge fucking deal about keeping it from you and RJ—which is why I goddamn lost RJ in the first place!—and now he’s going around talking about it? When did he tell you?”
“This past Sunday.”
I frown at her. “You’ve known for three days and didn’t say anything to me? Why?”
“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Casey answers. Another shrug. “I figured we’d talk about it when you were ready.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I admit, shame sticking to my throat. “It happened one time. We were both drunk. And it was long before you and Fenn ever exchanged a single word.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not bothered.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say. “Honestly, I didn’t say anything after it happened because I knew you’d make fun of me for it. But I should’ve said something after you two got close.”
“So that’s the real reason RJ ended things, huh?”
“Yeah. He overheard me and Fenn deciding to hide it from him.”
“And I assume all those long paragraphs you’ve been texting is you apologizing?”
I nod bleakly. “He just ignores them.”
“He’ll come around.”
Hope ripples through me. “Do you really believe that?”
“Of course.”
Her confidence triggers a weird rush of emotion. To my dismay, the tears well up again and I have to blink rapidly to stop them from spilling over.
“It’ll all work out in the end, Sloane. It always does.” Casey scoots closer and reaches for both my hands, which feel cold and clammy. Hers are warm, and she wastes no time clasping them around mine.
I rest my head on her shoulder. “You don’t have to comfort me,” I mumble. “It’s weird that you’re comforting me.”
“How is it weird? I’m your sister.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Yeah, but I’m the one who—” I stop.
“You’re the one who’s supposed to comfort me?” she finishes knowingly. “Yeah. I know. I overheard some of your conversation with Dad. How you feel like you have to carry all the burdens—”
“You’re not a burden,” I interrupt. “Let’s be clear about that. You are never a burden, Case.”
“No, I know. But let’s not pretend you haven’t spent our whole lives serving as my champion. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it. I really do. But you don’t need to baby me. I’m stronger than I look.”
I lift my head and see the fortitude shining in her eyes. “I know you are.”
“Do you?” Casey prompts, lifting a brow.
“I do.” I bite my lip. “Or at least I used to know that. I guess after the accident I kind of forgot. I was so caught up in my own guilt about letting that happen to you—”
“You didn’t let it happen,” she interjects, her jaw falling open. “Do you actually believe any of it was your fault?”
“Yes,” I say simply. “Because I was responsible for you that night. I know it, and Dad knows it. He blames me too.”
“Of course he doesn’t blame you.”
“Case. I know you mean well. But trust me when I say this—Dad will never forgive me for almost letting you die.”
Casey heaves a long, heavy breath. “I don’t believe that at all. But that’s for you two to figure out.” She squeezes my hands. “I don’t blame you one bit, for what it’s worth. And I mean it, I don’t need you to be my protector all the time. Sometimes you’re allowed to just be my sister.”