Chapter Twenty-Nine
You can’t tell Jonathan,” I say, leaning over the table to grip Collin’s shirt so he understands how serious I am. Or desperate.
“Why would I tell Jonathan that you lost your virginity to Graham Westhouser? I don’t know if I want to know.”
I release his shirt with a huff and slump back in my chair.
“I like Graham so much. I do. But when he said he loved me—”
“You took your clothes off so you wouldn’t have to say it back. Makes perfect sense.”
I groan. “When you say it like that, it sounds terrible.”
“I mean, Jonathan gave it up to a junior in college last year because she thought he was twenty and he figured it was easier to sleep with her than tell her he was a high school sophomore, visiting the campus. You two are seriously miscommunication nightmares.”
“What’s with him and older girls anyway?” I don’t think he’s ever dated a girl his age. Well, he hasn’t actually dated anyone. They’ve all been girls he’s hooked up with in some way in other towns, schools or college. I’ve hated hearing about all of them for reasons I can’t think about right now.
“Right?” Collin adds. “And how does he always get away with being, like, four years older than he is? I didn’t even have chest hair all of sophomore year.”
“Drives me crazy,” I say half-heartedly with an eye roll.
“Nice change of subject. Maybe you should be a lawyer.”
“Never.” I spot Jonathan entering Clara’s and hiss, “Mouth shut.”
“What’s up?” Jonathan asks, sliding onto his seat next to Collin.
“Ask Sadie.”
I glare at Collin. He motions zipping his lips. I’m seriously going to hurt him later. I mean, I won’t. But I’m thinking it.
Jonathan looks between us. “What did I miss?”
Before I can redirect the conversation that we are not having, the chair beside me scrapes across the tiles.
“Graham!” Collin exclaims with his arms in the air, like he’s declaring a touchdown. “How’s it hangin’, my man?” He reaches across the table and slaps Graham’s hand. Graham looks flustered, not expecting the enthusiastic welcome.
I’m seriously thinking very bad thoughts toward Collin right now. If only he could hear them.
Before I can drag Graham away, he’s blathering. “She told you? I guess… I didn’t know if she would. Wasn’t sure if you were going to punch me or… but we’re good. Right?”
No way. Please, no. This is not my boyfriend. This is not my sweet, sensitive, emotionally supportive boyfriend I’ve been dating since January.
“What are you doing?” I ask at the same time as Jonathan asks, “Why would we punch you?”
Graham swallows. He looks from me to Collin. His face is getting red. “Uh, no reason.”
I want to crawl under the table. Jonathan takes in my crossed arms and mortified expression. Collin’s big, fat stupid grin—that I want to squish off his face. And Graham’s discomfort. Why does he keep blinking like that?
“Who invited you to have breakfast with us?”
I press my lips together and raise an eyebrow. The message is clear—not me.
Graham’s never hung out with us before. He knows Sundays are my mornings with the guys. He and I have lunch at school every day and hang out most afternoons before I go to the studio. Collin and Jonathan have always been an unspoken off-limits.
We look at Collin. “Not it.”
Graham clears his throat. “I thought… that considering… you know. We’ve been dating for, like, nine months, and after… after…”
If he says it, we will not be dating for nine more minutes. But he doesn’t have to say it. Jonathan picks up on all the clues. His brows rise.
I cannot be here. After the most romantic, as well as extremely awkward, night of my life, this cannot be my reality.
“Are you telling me that you earned the right to sit with us ‘after… after…’?” he mocks Graham.
“Then you’re a fucking idiot. That’s not something you earn.
That’s a privilege that you obviously don’t deserve.
So, if you’re not out of that seat and away from Sadie in three seconds, you’re not going to be able to sit or eat—let alone ‘after’—for a very long time. ”
“What?” Graham says while standing. He looks to me for help.
I’m too stunned for words. But I also didn’t connect the dots the way Jonathan did. This can’t be right. Graham said he loved me. We spent so much time together.
“Why were you with me this entire time? Was it because you liked me or because you were trying to impress them?”
“That’s ridiculous. But I just thought, now… was time.”
I stare at Graham in horror. I think I’m going to be sick.
Jonathan begins counting down on his fingers. Graham is gone by two.
I collapse my head into my arms. “Nine months of my life.”
“I was wondering how long it was going to take you,” Collin says, dangling a straw over his mouth and dripping his milkshake into it.
“That he was using me to be friends with you?”
“I don’t think that’s it exactly,” Jonathan adds with a note of sympathy.
“He’d ask me if I told you what we did. Or how you felt about something. He was so worried about making you mad. Why date me?”
“He’s that sensitive-feely guy you always go for. He wrote you poetry! How could you not luv—like him a real lot?” I throw a rolled-up straw wrapper at Collin. He laughs at me.
“The poetry wasn’t bad,” Jonathan notes, appearing nostalgic. I gawk at him. “It wasn’t. I liked it a real lot too.”
Now he’s teasing me. Great.
“He fell for your squishy heart and was hoping to be cool enough to hang with… us.”
“You?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What’s so great about you?”
“Where should I begin? How much time do we have?” Collin smirks.
I take a cleansing breath. I’ll probably cry about this later. I make a face and ask Jonathan, “So… you know.”
“I know.” He glances between us again. “You weren’t going to tell me?”
I shrug.
“Why not?”
“Because she’s in love with you,” Collin blurts. I kick him under the table. “Shit! I’m just kidding. I meant that she wasn’t in love with him.”
Jonathan’s neck is red. Instead of replying, he waves to Clara to let her know we’re ready to order. Thankfully, we don’t bring it up again. Ever.
Jonathan and I aren’t talking. We’re avoiding each other so intentionally that, sometimes, it looks like we’re dancing in the hallways to stay out of each other’s way.
I hurt for more reasons than I can name. At the same time, I still love him. But I’m so furious. And heartbroken. And worried.
I want to hug him. Scream at him. And never speak to him again, all at the same time.
I did what I promised Collin I’d never do—I ruined us.
Hopefully not forever. Collin says he doesn’t hate me.
But it puts him in the worst position, having to choose who to spend time with.
It was easier when Jonathan was staying with him.
But Jonathan returned home two nights ago because his mother wants him there for Christmas this weekend.
“Do you think he’ll be safe?”
“What do you mean?” Collin asks.
We’re decorating the gingerbread cookies at our kitchen table. My family includes them in the holiday gift baskets we hand out every year. If Collin will stop eating them.
I slap at his hand when he breaks off an arm and pops it into his mouth. “What? It was broken.” I growl at him. “Okay, what do you mean about being safe?”
“Will his dad hurt him again?”
“Probably.”
My mouth drops. I can’t believe he just said that like it’s a fact. So calm and accepting.
“What do you want from me? I’m being honest.” He swipes some frosting onto my nose. “But he and I made a deal. It should make you feel better.” Maybe I mistook confidence for calm.
“What is it?” I swipe the frosting off with the back of my hand.
“I can’t tell you. That was part of the deal.”
“Will your deal keep him safe?”
Collin shrugs.
“Collin! This isn’t okay. I’ve already had one friend in the hospital because someone hurt her…” Nothing about me is calm or confident. Every answer he gives freaks me out more. I’m not convinced of anything, not until I know for certain Jonathan won’t be harmed while in that house.
“It won’t be like that.”
“How do you know?” How can we know anything if Jonathan won’t be honest with us?
“Have you met Jonathan? Do you think he’ll let his dad hurt him if he can help it?”
“He said he’s never hit him before. What I saw was the first time he fought back.
Is that true?” This is what happens when we don’t talk.
I don’t know what is and isn’t the full truth—without omission or deliberate misdirection.
And Collin isn’t helping me feel more secure despite whatever deal they made.
“As far as I know. I didn’t get a historical account of their battles.”
“Don’t be like this. This is serious.” My stomach hurts—and not because of all the sugar I’ve been eating.
“I know.” He sighs and sets down the tube of frosting. “I know it is. I’m sorry I don’t sound like I’m taking it seriously. I just… don’t know what to do. And I’m as frustrated as you are, I promise.” Collin finally lets the worry reveal itself in the set of his brows and resignation in his voice.
“I think you and I should make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” He looks like he doesn’t trust me. Since when was I labeled the manipulating mastermind among us? I just want to know the truth and for Jonathan to be safe.
“That if we know he’s being hurt, we tell someone.” I can’t sit by and allow someone I love to be hurt again. I will no longer be a passive spectator.
“I like my deal better.”
“Then tell me what it is.” I cross my arms and wait. When he hesitates, I widen my eyes, urging him to spill.
“That he moves out. And lives with me until we go to college.”
I consider this, but it doesn’t exactly solve the problem. “That works, I guess. But why can’t we tell someone?”
“Because then they’ll have to investigate the home. And Jonathan doesn’t want anything to happen to his mom and Ryan. Besides, every cop in town knows Jonathan for the fights he gets into. Do you think he has a chance against his dad?”
I bite at my lip. “My dad is about to be elected prosecutor. Maybe he can…”