Page 96 of Truth or Dare

My hands shook as I traced the damning words with my finger, bile rising in my throat. Evan would hate me for this. But that was fine. I hated him, too. He had no loyalty to his parents—why should I? They didn’t deserve it. None of them did.

Shoving the notebook under my mattress, I sank back onto my pillow, my chest tightening with the weight of what I knew. The knowledge gnawed at me, a sickening pressure I couldn’t escape.

I closed my eyes, coughing against the knot of dread rising inside me. How much longer could I bear this alone?

CHAPTER 29

Hudson

Ipulled the collar of my leather jacket up around my neck. The first week of November was coming in like a frigid bitch. It felt more like winter rather than late fall. I was happy to be finished with classes and ready to sleep in this weekend.

I hadn’t seen Presley in days. Neil had mentioned she was sick, but she hadn’t answered my texts or calls, leaving me in the dark.

“Hudson!” My mom’s voice carried from somewhere inside as I stepped into the house.

“Yeah, Mom?” I called back, tossing my keys onto the counter.

“We have dinner tonight,” she replied.

Curious, I followed her voice to the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. She was on her knees with her head halfway inside the oven.

“Don’t do it, Mom,” I said, smirking as I leaned against the doorframe.

She pulled back with a roll of her eyes, yellow rubber gloves on her hands and a grimy pink sponge clutched in one. “Very funny. Just wiping out the oven.”

Grinning, I walked to the table and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. “You mentioned dinner?”

“Yes, at the Rossis’,” she said, giving the oven door a final wipe before standing.

“What’s going on with you and Presley?” she asked casually, her focus on tossing the sponge into the trash.

My chest tightened at the mention of her name. I shrugged, even though Mom wasn’t looking. “We fizzled out. Do I have to go?”

She closed the oven door with a soft thud and peeled off her gloves. “Mr. Rossi is your stepfather’s boss. He invited us as a family.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to groan. Presley’s silence all week, had been eating at me. I’d almost sent her flowers but decided against it. I didn’t want to come off as desperate, even though I was. Hell, I missed everything about her—her laugh, her perfume, the way her presence lingered in my room long after she’d left. The scent had faded from my sheets, and I’d reluctantly washed them a few days ago, like erasing the last bit of her.

“But she was sick,” I muttered, hoping for an out.

“She’s fine now. Bronchitis,” Mom said, setting the gloves on the counter. “This dinner was planned weeks ago. It won’t be so bad.”

I bit into the apple, trying to distract myself from the growing knot in my stomach. Spending an evening across from Presley while she froze me out sounded like pure hell. I didn’t think I could take it.

Mom poured herself a cup of tea, her voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “Change into something nicer before we leave. Your jeans are a disaster.”

I glanced down at my ripped knees and fraying threads. “I like these,” I said, feigning innocence.

“They’re not appropriate for dinner at someone’s home,” she shot back, arching a brow. “Wear the black ones I bought you.”

The black jeans. Right. When I’d moved back here, Mom had gone on a shopping spree to update my wardrobe. Most of the new stuff still hung untouched in my closet. I preferred my old, worn-in clothes—the ones that felt like home.

“Fine,” I said, taking another bite of the apple.

“When are we leaving?” I asked between chews, though the question felt pointless. I already knew there was no getting out of this.

“In an hour,” she said, taking a sip of tea.

I tossed the apple core into the trash, my appetite gone. The thought of seeing Presley again—of being in the same room while she looked right through me—made my chest tighten. I rarely got nervous, but tonight, I felt like I was heading into a fight I couldn’t win.

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