Chapter 18
brIE
I step into the bathroom, Tess stumbling in behind me as chants of “TACO TURSDAY” swell from the restaurant. She goes straight to the sink, gripping the edges as she stares at herself in the mirror. I try to catch her eye, but she won’t look at me.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask.
She breathes in, and as she exhales, I see her face transform in the mirror. Her eyes brighten, a soft smile appears with a glimpse of white teeth, and her shoulders straighten.
My eyes narrow. I had that exact move perfected by the end of my last semester at Everett Academy.
Now, she turns to me, and in an oddly soothing voice says, “Nothing, I’m fine.”
I take a step toward her. “No, you’re not. Tell me what happened.” Or I swear I’ll shake it out of you. Not really. I wouldn’t resort to violence. But man, do I want to.
Her smile falters. “Really, it’s nothing.”
“Good. I like nothing.”
She swallows, and I see the cracks start to form. Her shoulders drop and her eyes start to water.
Oh god. I pushed too hard. I’m no good at this, too rough around the edges. I don’t know how to be comforting to someone else.
My hands rise uncertainly. “Tess?”
A sob wrenches out of her, and she tumbles into my arms. I pat her awkwardly at first, trying to say soothing things, but almost everything comes out as gibberish. How do I comfort someone when I have no idea what’s wrong?
She’s taller than me by several inches, but she seems so small in this moment. I hug her tighter, telling her I’m here, it’ll be okay, whatever it is, we’ll fix it.
When the crying turns into soft hiccups, I draw my head back and look at her.
The mask is gone. Her sad blue eyes make my heart ache. I wipe away the final tears with my thumbs and tuck her hair behind her ears.
“Talk to me.”
She shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
With a watery laugh, she nods and takes a fortifying breath. “It’s my ex, CJ. He’s having a hard time understanding we’re not together anymore.” She smiles, almost like nothing’s wrong. “But it’s just words, and words can’t hurt me.”
I want to take her by the shoulders and shout What do you mean they can’t hurt you? Did you see yourself a second ago?!
A memory swims forward of the first time we had lunch together. I know what it’s like to be treated poorly. Protectiveness worms through me.
I ask, “What happened?”
She looks up at the ceiling and blinks rapidly.
“We dated for years. He was never a great boyfriend, but he’d fallen in with a bad crowd a year or so ago, and I watched him turn into a bad person.
I gave him an ultimatum. When nothing changed by New Year’s, I broke up with him.
But then the calls started. When he called a couple days ago, I told him off.
It felt really good. I thought that was the end of it.
” That’s why she was in such a good mood when she invited me out.
“But tonight, he was at my door when I opened it to leave. He kind of forced his way through.” When she sees my face, she’s quick to add, “He never laid a hand on me, but he . . . he kind of walked forward, which made me walk backward, and we ended up in my apartment with the door locked.”
“Tess!” I practically shout. “He might not have put a hand on you, but that’s physical. Like, kidnapping or false imprisonment or something. I mean, it can’t be legal!”
She shakes her head. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t walked backward, he wouldn’t have come inside.”
That’s three times now. Three times I’ve wanted to shake her. “It was not your fault,” is all I say through gritted teeth.
She doesn’t hear me. “He begged me for another chance. He used all the predictable tactics. I’ve talked about it with my therapist. Weaponizing love, she calls it. I knew what he was doing, but it still affected me—”
“Of course it did.”
“—and I finally got him to leave when I told him I’d think about getting back together.”
My jaw drops, and I hastily bring it back up. I don’t want her to think I blame her.
“It’s what he wanted, it was the only way to get rid of him,” she says.
And guarantees he’ll be back. But I don’t tell her that. She surely already knows. And what choice did she have?
“Tess, this isn’t normal. People don’t act like this.”
“I know,” she says. “He’s having trouble letting go.”
I’m shaking with frustration and fury. What kind of monster would act like this? And to Tess, of all people?
And here, I thought my problems were so important. Even the thing with Christopher pales compared to this. The mind games Sawyer plays? Just that: little games.
I wish there was something I could do for her.
“Does anyone else know about this?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. There was nothing to tell before tonight.”
“What about Nash?” From the little I remember about her brother, I’d bet money if he already knew, this guy wouldn’t dare mess with Tess.
“I wouldn’t want to bother him, he’s got his own life.”
That’s the fourth time.
My fingernails dig into my palms so hard, I expect to draw blood. “Do you have anyone you can stay with?”
She half-laughs, half-sobs. “I haven’t done a good job keeping up with my friends.”
Of course she doesn’t. Her asshole ex would have isolated her as much as possible.
I give her a reassuring smile.
She says, “Is that supposed to be a smile?”
A disbelieving, single syllable resembling a laugh escapes my throat. “It was supposed to be. Come home with me tonight. Gia would kill me if I let you stay anywhere else.”
“No.” She says it with so much fortitude, I draw back a little. “Tonight’s done, he won’t be back.”
“But—“
“I mean it, Brie. He won’t be back for a while. I won’t let this disrupt my life anymore, let alone anyone else’s.”
“But we’re friends, it’s not a disruption. I want—”
“We are friends. Thank you.” She stoops to hug me, seeming entirely too much like her usual self.
When she pulls back, I don’t let go. I won’t. I have to do something. I rack my brain.
“Promise me something,” I say. “Tell someone else. Tell Nash.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. She really believes she’s a burden to her big brother.
“Tell him,” I urge, “and let him know I know.”
She presses her lips together in a tight line, but she finally nods.
I don’t loosen my hold on her. “And memorize Gia’s address: two Emerson Avenue. In Belmont.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Say it.”
“Two Emerson Ave.”
I give her one more squeeze. Someone enters the bathroom, and sounds from the bar echo in with her. Pink crawls up Tess’s cheeks as I break the hug.
“Wanna go to The Square and get a milkshake?” I ask. “The diner will be quiet on a Tursday.” I roll my eyes at the word.
She smiles, sniffling. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll go get our stuff. Meet you back here.”
I leave the bathroom, walk down the hallway, and round the corner back into the restaurant. Sawyer’s right where I left him.
Laughing.
Having a great time as Ethan grins back.
No sign of Rich, though. With any luck, the earth opened up beneath him and swallowed him back to the depths of hell where he belongs.
For a little while, I forgot how awful they are.
All of them. I was almost pulled in by Sawyer’s charm, Ethan’s hospitality.
The way they dealt with Rich. I let it distract me from my worry over Tess.
She was late and I knew there was something wrong, but when Sawyer said it was probably parking trouble, I let myself believe him.
She could’ve been hurt—or worse!—while I was bantering about harems and royalty with that chlorinated asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.
Sawyer looks up as I approach. He shoots to his feet, fake concern painting his face.
“How’s Tess? Where is she?”
“She’s waiting for me in the bathroom.” I grab my jacket and Tess’s purse, and drop some cash on the table.
“You’re leaving?”
“We’re leaving.”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I reach for it in case it’s Tess calling from the bathroom.
It’s a text from Dev.
Guess what
I ignore it, but before I can pocket my phone again, it vibrates in my hand.
Harvest dumped me for Sawyer.
I read it two more times, trying to process. As I do, a prickling sensation climbs up my spine, and pure unadulterated rage lodges its ugly claws into me.
It’s official. Everyone sucks. Tess’s toxic waste of an ex-boyfriend treating her like garbage. Nash not making it clear to his little sister that she’s important enough to tell things to.
And Sawyer.
How did he do it? Did he get Harvest’s number while we were all there? Did he even wait until the next day to call her, or did he have her over that very night? She was eager enough.
Sawyer steps close, his voice low. “What can I do? Is Tess okay?”
I pause to look at him.
“How do you do that?”
He blinks. “Do what?”
“How do you make your face so sincere? Your voice so full of concern?”
His brow dips. “I am concerned.”
“Right,” I scoff. “Tess and I are leaving, and I’m positive neither of us wants to see another man again.”
I want to clap at the hurt that flashes across his face.
The man deserves an Oscar.