Chapter 22
No, no, no, no! They have to be here! At least one of the photos had to have been saved.
I frantically search through my photo library, but the last one taken was at the beach. I took a photo of the ocean as a wave was coming in. That’s the most recent photo.
“Dammit!” I turn around and look at the school, wondering if I should go back in there. But I’m sure they’re done by now. From the sounds they were making, they were definitely getting close.
A car pulls up beside me. It’s Ana.
I get in the car, slamming the door.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to slam the door.”
She drives off. “Have a bad day at school?”
“Yeah. Didn’t do well on a test,” I say, so she won’t suspect something else is wrong. I assume she tells Brock everything. Sometimes I think he uses her to spy on Trystan, Braden, and me when he’s not around.
“I made roasted chicken and sweet potatoes for dinner. It should be ready when we get home.”
“Sounds good.” I stare out the window, furious that I didn’t get those photos.
When we get to the house, I go to my room and check my photos again, thinking maybe my phone reordered them for some reason.
I flip through each and every photo, starting from the first one in my photo library.
It’s a photo of my mom from a few years ago.
Seeing her makes tears well up in my eyes.
By the time I get halfway through the photos, I’m crying so much I can’t even see.
“Rumor.” Trystan bangs on my door.
“What?” I manage to say through the tears.
“Dinner’s ready. Dad told me to come get you.”
“I’m not hungry.” I wipe my face, sniffling and realizing I don’t have any tissues in my room.
The door swings open and Trystan comes in.
“Dad wants us to—” He stops, noticing the tears on my face. “What’s going on?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
He looks down at my phone, which has a photo of my mom laughing. She was always laughing and smiling. Whenever I was in a bad mood, she could find a way to make me laugh.
“Your mom?” Trystan asks, pointing to the photo.
I nod, wiping my eyes.
He sits next to me on my bed. “You want to talk about it?”
Assuming he’s joking, I turn my back to him. “Just go. Tell your dad I’m not hungry.”
“He’s insisting we eat as a family tonight. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s going to tell us he’s leaving again.”
“Trystan, I can’t.” I sniffle. “Just tell him I’m sick or something.”
“She looks just like you.”
I turn back and see Trystan holding my phone. I yank it away from him. “Don’t.”
“I just wanted to see her.” He pauses. “Do you look at those a lot?”
“No,” I say, more tears falling. “I can’t.” I sniffle. “I can’t look at her. I want to, but I can’t.”
“But you were just now.”
“I was looking for something else. And then I saw her and—” My breath stutters as more tears fall. I turn away from Trystan, not wanting him to see me cry.
“I know it’s not the same, but I can’t look at pictures of my mom either. Braden said he told you about her.”
I nod, sniffling and wiping my eyes.
“She used to be an awesome mom. She did everything for us. Dad said she spoiled us, and she did, but she was there for us. She didn’t take off and leave us, like he does.
She was the opposite of him. He’s only focused on himself, but she made everything about us.
Her only job was being our mom and then . . . she was gone.”
“But she’s not gone,” I say, turning to him. “You can still see her.”
“If you saw her now, you’d know why we don’t go over there. She’s not my mom. She’s some crazy person who screams and yells and throws things at us.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Last Christmas. Braden didn’t want to go, but I made him. I wanted to see her, but I didn’t want to go alone.”
“And what happened?”
“She went fucking nuts. She thought Braden was Dad and told him she wished he was dead.” He pauses. “Then she saw me and . . . she didn’t know who I was. I told Dad and he said it might be because of her meds. She takes all these pills that make her forget stuff.”
Trystan swipes through his phone, then turns it toward me, showing me a photo of his mom. I never met her, but I saw her on TV when I was growing up, standing next to Brock at award shows.
“This is the only one I keep on my phone,” Trystan says.
“It was taken right after I was born. Dad said that was the happiest he’d ever seen her.
She had her two boys, which is all she wanted out of life.
She loved kids. She had tons of money but all she wanted was to be a mom.
And now she doesn’t even recognize her own kids. Or remember us.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He gets up. “I’ll tell Dad you’re sick.”
“Thanks.” I walk him to the door.
He stands there, not leaving.
“Aren’t you going?” I ask.
He looks nervous, his eyes bouncing all around me.
“Trystan?”
He yanks me into a hug. And it’s a real hug, not a groping hug like Braden would do.
After a few seconds, he lets me go, seeming anxious and uncomfortable.
“It’ll get better,” he says, stepping back. “I promise.”
I nod, then close the door.
That was strange. Trystan was being nice, and it didn’t seem like an act. I can’t figure him out. He’s nice and then mean and then nice again. I wish he’d just be nice all the time.
Picking up my phone, I text Jackson. I need to tell him what I saw. Even if I don’t have proof, I still need to tell him. He needs to know Kristen is lying to him.
When are you done with practice? I text.
Just got home.
Can I come over?
How? Isn’t everyone there?
Don’t worry about that. Can I come over or not?
Of course.
I change out of my uniform, then quickly flip through the remaining photos. None of the ones I took today are in there. Jackson will just have to believe me.
Before I go, I text Trystan.
Can you come to my room?
If they’re all having dinner, I don’t want to go out there and be questioned by Braden and Brock. Trystan feels sorry for me right now so there’s a chance he might cover for me.
He knocks on my door, and I go over and open it.
“Hey, I need a favor,” I say.
“What is it?”
“I need to get out of here. The photos made me sad, and I need to get out of my room. I want to take a walk on the beach, but your dad won’t let me. Can you cover for me?”
“Yeah, I guess. Where are you going?”
“I’ll just walk up and down the beach. It clears my head. Makes me feel better.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe an hour?”
“Text me when you’re back. We just started dinner and Dad has some big announcement to make. If you’re not there he’ll probably come to your room later to tell you.”
“Tell him I’m sleeping and not to wake me up.”
“Okay, but don’t be gone more than an hour. I’m not covering for you any longer than that.”
“What’s your dad’s big announcement? Do you know?”
“Probably just something about a job. I have to get back there before Dad starts yelling at me.”
He leaves and shuts the door.
Racing out the sliding door to the patio, I quickly walk around the pool and down the steps. When I get to the beach, I take off in a sprint, hurrying to get to Jackson’s house so I’ll have more time to talk to him.
When I get to his house, I’m struggling to breathe. I’m not a runner and going that fast left me completely breathless. His back door is locked. Peeking inside, I see him walking toward the hall that goes to the bedrooms. I knock on the glass door.
It startles him, and he stops. He sees me at the door and hurries over.
“How’d you get here so fast?” he asks, opening the door.
“I ran,” I say, still catching my breath. “I don’t have much time. I got Trystan to cover for me, but he’ll only do it for an hour and I’ve already used up ten minutes.”
“What’s going on?” he asks as I come inside.
“I have something to tell you, but first I need some water.”
“Let’s go to the kitchen.”
I follow him there, and he gives me a bottle of water from the fridge. He pulls out a chair at the table. “Here. Sit down.”
I gulp down the water. “I can’t sit. I’m too worked up.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I had to stay after school today.” I take a breath. “For counseling.”
“Yeah? How was it?”
“This isn’t about the counseling. It’s about what happened after it was over. Ms. Adams left and I was alone in the school, or I thought I was. But as I was leaving, I heard a noise. It was coming from one of the classrooms.”
“What was it?”
I set my water down and look him in the eye. “People were in there having sex.”
“Let me guess.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Braden and one of the cheerleaders?”
“No. It was Principal Edwards and . . .” I pause, afraid he won’t believe me. Kristen has fooled him to the point that I’m afraid he’ll believe her over me.
“And who?” he asks.
I take a breath. “Kristen.”
Jackson’s face explodes with anger. “That fucker raped her? At school?” He takes off for the front door like he’s on his way to kill Principal Edwards.
“Jackson, wait!” I run after him. “He didn’t rape her! She wanted it!”
He whips around. “She wanted it? Are you fucking serious right now? You’re saying she wanted to be raped?”
“No! Of course not! I’m saying she wanted to have sex with him. She was moaning and telling him how good it felt and to keep going.” I shudder. “It was disgusting. I couldn’t even believe it was happening.”
He stares at me, his eyes bouncing around my face. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying! Why would I make this up?”
He storms back to the kitchen, and I hurry to catch up to him.
“I know you hate Kristen but making up some story to get me to stop seeing her is just—” He shakes his head. “Something I never thought you’d do. You’re not the girl I thought you were.”
“Me? Kristen is the one who’s been lying to you! All that stuff she told you about her stepdad is a lie. If you saw her today, you’d know it was all made up. He wasn’t doing anything to her she didn’t want.”