Thirty-Two Grace
Eighteen years ago
I told Wyatt everything. All the lies and the guilt were making me hate myself. I’d thought about what it would be like to tell the truth for so long. I knew it would be awful. But it was so much worse than I imagined it would be.
I’ll never forget the pain in Wyatt’s eyes.
I’ll never forget that it was me who put it there.
The one he trusted the most. It was worse that he didn’t scream.
I wanted him to yell at me. I deserved it.
I deserved so much more. But he was quiet when he told me to get out of his truck.
I fought back my tears because I had no right to them.
I shut the door and walked until my legs begged for the burn of a run. And then I ran.
Frank is going to be pissed when he finds out I told Wyatt.
When he learns that our little secret isn’t just between us anymore.
But screw it. Wyatt deserves to know. So does Tina for that matter.
He has to know this wasn’t going to stay hidden forever.
The truth always comes out. And when it does, I’ll be labeled a homewrecker.
The heartless bitch who was sleeping with my perfect boyfriend’s dad.
What a cliche.
I stop running when I get to the beach. My lungs burn. It’s my favorite feeling, and as soon as I think it, I think maybe I’ll never run again. I don’t deserve my favorite feelings. I’m an awful, terrible, disgusting whore.
I collapse into the sand and listen to the waves crashing onto the shore.
It sounds so similar to the sound of my life crashing down around me.
What is my dad going to say when he finds out?
Frank is his best friend. I bet Frank will try to pin it all on me.
Say I came onto him first when that isn’t even true.
I sigh and get to my feet. It’s time to stop sulking and face the music. If Wyatt never wants to talk to me again, I’ll have to accept that. If the whole town calls me a whore and throws red paint on me in the streets, I’ll just have to wear it.
I walk slowly back to the house. As brave as I keep telling myself to be, I want to put it off for as long as possible. If I don’t go home, I don’t have to face what I’ve done. But eventually, I do make it home.
I hesitate just inside the door. I can hear my parents in the kitchen. Mom is making brownies. I can smell them from here. Dad is trying to get a piece before they’ve cooled, and Mom won’t let him. I kick my shoes off, make my way to the kitchen, and hop onto the counter to sit.
“Hey, you,” Mom says. “You’re just in time for a brownie.”
“How is she just in time but I have to wait?” Dad asks, his mouth open in disbelief.
I smile but it falls quickly. I don’t know why I just expected everyone to know my big secret the second it passed my lips. But they don’t know. They don’t know how awful I am and how bad I messed up, and that’s why they’re being nice to me.
“Where’s Geny?” I ask because I can’t stomach a brownie right now and I need to change the subject because they’ll both know something is wrong if I turn one down.
Dad swiftly lifts a brownie from the pan and dives away from Mom’s swat just in time.
“She left like . . .” He looks at the clock on the stove. “Forty minutes ago?”
“Where to?”
Dad shrugs. “A walk, I think she said.”
I bite my lip. That’s weird. She walks the same path I just took and I didn’t see her. I hop off the counter and take a step toward the doorway.
“I’ll be up in my room if you need me,” I say.
Upstairs, I plop onto my bed. I can’t decide if I’d rather have Geny here or if I’m glad to be alone. A little bit of both, I guess. At some point I must doze off, because the next thing I know, Geny is shaking my arm.
“Wake up,” she says. She looks upset. I immediately try to remember if I was supposed to do something with her that I forgot about, but I can’t think of anything, and I don’t have it in me to ask. I have too much going on myself right now.
“What?” I ask when my eyes can finally focus.
She goes to the closet and changes into a sweater. “Everyone’s hanging out at the beach.”
I sigh and let my head fall back onto the pillow. “I’m not going.”
“Yes you are. I ran into Wyatt on my way home, and he told me to ask you to come. He said you guys were in a fight, but he wanted to talk to you.”
I shoot up from my bed. “Really? How did he seem?”
She shrugs. “I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
I roll my eyes but grab my own sweater from the back of my desk chair and hurry downstairs. “Are you ready?” I call behind me.
She doesn’t respond and she’s still not downstairs when I get my shoes on. “Geny! Come on. Are you ready?” My sister finally appears on the stairs, moving slower than seems possible. “Why are you dragging your feet? Move it.” I wave my hand in a hurry-up fashion.
I wish I didn’t have to wait for her. I’d run the entire way and be there in half the time. Wyatt wants to talk to me. I hadn’t expected to hear from him again tonight. Probably ever again, but especially not tonight.
Geny still doesn’t say anything. She sulks past me and out the door. Whatever. She’s had an attitude for weeks now and if she doesn’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine with me. I walk a few steps ahead of her the whole way there. I don’t try to make conversation again.
Instead, I think about what Wyatt might want to say to me.
Maybe he’s officially breaking up with me.
The thought makes me want to puke. But I’ll respect his decision, whatever it is.
I just want to be out of this unknown middle area of gray.
Are we going to try to move forward, or are we going our separate ways?
Whatever it is . . . I need to know.
I see Wyatt’s truck parked on the sand halfway into the brush that leads to the woods. Murphy’s car is here too. All of a sudden, I can hardly breathe, and all my gusto about needing to know Wyatt’s decision is gone. I don’t want to know anymore. I want to go home and avoid him.
It’s too soon to be good news. He’s still at peak anger.
He’s making a decision when he’s still mad, and that’s not good for me.
But it is totally his right to do that. I let out a low groan of mixed emotions and force my feet to keep moving forward.
I see Tara first. She’s sitting by a fire looking pissed off, but that’s how she always looks. When she sees me, her face lights up.
“There she is!”
My heart pounds in my chest. Does she know? Has Wyatt told our friends what I’ve done? Tara points to a cooler when I get closer.
“Murphy bought some stuff if you want any.”
“What’d he get?” I walk toward the cooler to peek inside. Maybe some alcohol will help me calm down.
“UV Blue, Burnett’s, but I don’t know what kind. I have Mountain Dew for a mixer.”
I turn one of the bottles over and see the Pink Lemonade label on the bottle of Burnett’s and weigh my options. Before I can decide, Wyatt and Murphy come tromping out of the woods with armfuls of firewood. They drop their load near the fire, and Wyatt and I make eye contact.
My stomach flips and my heart feels like it’s going to implode.
It will destroy me if he can’t forgive me.
I don’t expect him to. I don’t deserve it.
But a few hours ago, I thought I’d survive no matter what he decided.
Now I know that’s not true. If it isn’t Wyatt, it isn’t anyone.
I only wish I’d figured that out before making the biggest mistake of my life.
“Hey,” he says.
So casual. So loaded.
“Hey.”
He puts his hands in his jeans pockets. The breeze coming off the lake is cold despite the night being hot and humid.
I want to beg him to forgive me. Tell him I’ll do anything he wants for as long as we live.
That I’ll never make fun of the way he runs again.
That I’ll finally agree to five kids after we get married.
That I’ll even stop changing his car air fresheners out for the Black Ice ones I love but he hates.
I don’t say any of that though. Because it wouldn’t be fair. I know Wyatt loves me and I’ve put him in an impossible situation. If I say all that, I’ll be using his feelings to get what I want. Normally, I wouldn’t be above doing that. But not this time. Not after what I did.
“Do you want to go in the water?” he asks.
My breath catches. “Together?”
He grins, but he looks nervous. Upset maybe. But of course he is. “Yeah, together.”
I nod, stand up, and strip down to my bathing suit, which lives underneath my clothes permanently in the summer.
Wyatt walks closer to the shore before he takes off his clothes down to his boxer briefs.
There’s something crumpled up in his hand, but he angles away from me when I get closer so I can’t see what it is.
And then I’m distracted by his tan skin covered in goosebumps. He doesn’t like the cold water. But he always gets in anyway because I love it, and I reward him with making out, which he loves. This is a good sign. It has to be.
He leads me into the water. When we’re deep enough, he pulls me to him, and without thought, my legs wrap around his waist. His arms wrap around me, and their warmth makes me shiver. I need this forever. Please, God. Don’t take him away no matter how much I deserve it.
I’m afraid to say anything, so I wait for him to talk. He moves us slowly to the deeper end where the trees guard us from our friends on the shore. The butterflies in my stomach are wild.
“I love you, Grace. You know that,” he says.
“I know. I love you too. I’m so sorry—”
“Shh. I know. I know you are. It’s okay.”
I start to shake my head, but he stops me.
“No. Listen. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, Grace. He’s the adult. It’s wrong what he did.”
Tears slip from my eyes. But Wyatt isn’t done. He’s starts talking faster.
“I need you to know that I don’t blame you and that I love you. And you have to go.”
“What?”
“Frank is spinning out. He thinks you’re going to tell everyone.”
I shake my head. “I’m not—”
“It doesn’t matter. He thinks you’re going to. He’s sure of it. I heard him talking on the phone and he’s . . . Fuck. He’s arranging to have you killed.”
“What?” I practically shout, but Wyatt presses his finger to my lips. “Have me killed? Are you serious? He can’t do that.”
“He can. And he was serious on the phone. I know he was. You’re in serious danger, Grace. You have to leave here.”
“How?” The tears come faster. I’m scared and confused. What have I gotten myself into?
Wyatt shoves a plastic baggy into my chest. “Put this in your top. It’s money. A good amount.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. “I need to talk to my dad. We can call the police.”
“He is the police, Grace.”
“There are other police. The FBI. Whatever.”
“You think you can convince them to take your side over Frank’s? A decorated sheriff who’s never had a scratch on his record over a teenage girl who’s gotten in a fair amount of trouble over the years?”
I don’t say anything because he’s right.
“He’s going to have you killed. But not if you die first.”
I look at him like he’s gone crazy. I want to go home now. I want all of this to go away.
“Listen,” Wyatt says.
And then he explains it. His plan. For me to “drown” and for him to tell his dad that he killed me in the lake. Frank’s problem will go away, and he won’t look for me because he’ll believe me to be dead. But really, I’ll swim down the shore, climb out, and disappear.
Only it means everyone will think I’m dead.
My sister. My parents. It means being alone in the world for the first time and with no idea how to make it on my own.
For who knows how long. Wyatt says six years.
It’s the statute of limitations for crimes like this, he says.
If I come back after Frank feels safe from the consequences of what he did, I’ll probably be safe.
And so we go through with Wyatt’s plan to save my life.
“I love you,” he says one last time.
I press my lips to his. “I love you.”
And just as I end our kiss, lightning flashes in the sky.
A storm is coming.