Chapter 26
That night, Nat and I sat in my room. I was propped against the headboard, strumming my ukulele, while she doodled at the foot of my bed. Her spare phone must have been hidden away with her party clothes.
Nat had only said a few words to me since coming in, but I was stunned she was here at all. It had been months since she’d done this, since she’d shown any interest in my existence. If nothing else, the previous night had earned me her favor.
“I don’t remember getting home,” I admitted after a stretch of silence.
“You were trashed,” she said, and she said it fondly, like it was endearing. “Atlas had to carry you inside.”
“What.” It was a question, but it didn’t really sound like one. My entire body froze, and my ukulele fell from my lap. Nat continued her mindless doodling. I nudged her with my foot until she looked at me. “What’re you talking about? Atlas?”
“Yeah, he came out when we were getting home. Not sure why. But thank god. I don’t think I would’ve gotten you in without Mom and Dad waking up.”
I didn’t respond, too terrified to reveal the wrong thing. Nat didn’t seem concerned that Atlas had seen us stumbling home drunk from a party last night, but I knew he’d be furious. I’d just told him I wasn’t doing the stuff Nat was—and I wasn’t—but maybe it didn’t look that way.
I grabbed my phone off the charger. It died while we were out with Shayna, and I’d been procrastinating turning it on. Now that I had, I expected dozens of concerned texts from Atlas. Instead, there was only one new message waiting.
We need to talk.
My heart thudded as I read over the text, again and again, until the words blurred together. He was right. We did need to talk. I needed to convince him that I was fine. Nat was fine. Everything was fine.
Instead of doing any of that, I impulsively turned my phone back off and resumed playing the ukulele. I didn’t want to face his judgment. I didn’t want to admit that he might be right.
The next day, Nat and I went on an errand for Mom. When we returned, an array of plastic baggies were on the dining room table and everything was forever changed.