Page 133 of Rules

It’s as if she can’t hear me. I manage to grab her shoulder, making her stop in her tracks.

Jeanette turns around, lifting her filled-with-tears eyes to meet mine. My gut clenches tighter. It’s like some invisible hand is inside of me, squeezing the life out of my organs.

Something’s wrong. Something’s really,reallywrong.

My grip on her shoulder grows tighter.

“What happened?” I demand, my voice sounding way stronger than I actually feel.

If somebody hurt her…

At first, her body goes rigidly still, then out of nowhere, the trembles start, shaking her whole body as ugly, fat tears roll down her cheeks.

The ache in my chest grows stronger as fear spreads through me. My fingers itch to clench, but I don’t want to hurt her.

Motherfucker. If I find the person who did this to her…

“Jeanette, tell me what happened,” I repeat slowly, evenly.

She tries to resist me, get out of my hold so she can run away, but I don’t let go. It lasts for a few minutes, although it seems more like hours, but then she snaps and starts attackingme. Her delicate fingers form fists, and she pounds at me. My chest. My arms. My shoulders. Wherever she can get her hands.

“It’s all your fault!” Jeanette yells, accentuating every word with a punch. Surprised by her sudden outburst, my grip loosens, but only slightly. “I thought you were different. I thought you cared. But you’re just like them. Just like everybody else. We should have always had each other’s backs, Max. You’re my twin! Instead, you betrayed me.”

Her voice is growing louder with every word, drawing attention to us. I can feel people’s curious stares at the nape of my neck, but the only thing I can concentrate on is my sister.

My on-the-verge-of-losing-her-mind sister.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

More tears fill her eyes. “You and Maddaline fucking behind my back, that’s what I’m talking about. My so-called best friend.”

My heart stops and sinks. It feels like I’m free-falling, and there is nothing and nobody that can save me.

“Anette…” I choke on her name.

“Did you know she actually hates me? She’s only been hanging around your ugly, fat sister so she could get into your pants! But don’t worry; you’re not the only guy she’s been fucking. Turns out Patrick is one of her boy toys, too. I guess I’m not the only Sanders who she fucked over.”

My hands fall off her shoulders at her hurtful words. I want to deny them—my brain, my body, my heart—they all want to deny it, but a part of me can’t help but wonder.

Is she right? Is Jeanette telling me the truth? Have I failed her, failed me, so badly?

“Jeanette…” I try again, reaching for her, but she takes a step back.

“Don’t touch me.” Her arms wrap around her middle, holding herself together. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

It hurts. Her rejection hurts. A knee to my groin would hurt less than her words, but I deserve them.

Why did I keep it from her? Why didn’t I come clean from the beginning?

“I’m going home,” she finally whispers.

Jeanette is careful not to touch me as she takes a few steps around me. I hold my breath, shocked.

How did I miss all of this? It was happening right under my nose. My sister was hurting right under my nose, broken and degraded, and what did I do? I slept with the enemy! I let her get under my skin. I believed in her. Believed her story. Believed in herlies.

Breaking from the stillness, I turn around, ready to stop Jeanette. Go after her. Whatever the hell I need to do to make this right.

Only she’s not walking.

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