Page 143 of The Illicit Play
“I can’t go back to Chicago,” I mumble.
“What?” He whips his head up to look at me.
“I can’t go back to Chicago!” I shout. “I don’t go to school there anymore!”
There’s a horrible, thick beat that weighs a million tons. My legs finally give out and I slump onto the end of his bed, facing away from him.
“Why? Wha— What?” Wily stutters.
With a thick swallow, I talk to the carpet, because it’s easier than facing him. “I was going to get an academic suspension and… some disciplinary action. It was just easier for me to withdraw and pay for the damages. Leave quietly, you know?”
“Pay for the damages?”
I hunch my shoulders, trying to make myself as small as possible.
“What happened?” His voice pitches. “What did you do?”
Closing my eyes, I fight the bile surging up my throat and finally…finallymumble out my sins. I start with the worst and work my way backward, telling him about Cleo and Nico, Simon, and all the shit we pulled.
“I don’t know why I did it,” I finish, daring a glance over my shoulder.
He looks shredded, gaping at me like he doesn’t even know me anymore.
“And now Cleo’s threatening to send photos of me to Mom and Dad unless I keep paying her.” I wince, my expression buckling. “And they’re really horrible photos, Wily. They can’t see them. They can’t.” I hiccup out the last two words, my stomach convulsing.
Slumping forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and whimper into my hands.
“What are the photos of?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do,” he grits out, and I force myself to tell him.
“Just me being a drunken idiot, dancing on this table… topless.” I wince. “Me and Nico getting it on.” Hot bile surges up my throat, but I swallow it back down. “There’s another one of me giving Simon a—” I cut myself off. I can’t say it. Dammit, if I’d known Cleo was capturing that shit, I would have stopped.
“Blake.” Wily’s whisper is broken.
I sniff and force out the rest before I lose my nerve. “There are, uh… a few of me shoplifting. I mean, I guess I could argue that I paid for it later, but she snapped me slipping stuff into my bag, so yeah… it’s so obviously me being a little shit. And the last one she threatened me with was evidence of…” I lick a tear off the side of my mouth. “Of the spray-painting. I’m holding the can and everything. It’s…” I shake my head while my brother hisses.
I turn in time to see his gutted disappointment.
It kills me.
“I can’t…” I shake my head, begging him not to judge me, but what right do I have to ask that?
I deserve to be judged!
I’ve fucked up so badly!
And now he knows. The one person I looked up to all my life. The one who adored me because I was his sweet little sister now knows.
And I can’t handle that look on his face.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I lurch off the end of his bed and rush out his door.
“Blake!” he calls, but I can’t turn back.
I don’t want to hear what he has to say.
