Page 84 of Let Me
Maybe I am.
The question that haunts me most, the one I don’t want to think about too long:
Would I have done anything differently, if I could go back?
No.
The fucking answer is no, and I hate that. I hate it, because I should have been at home, instead of at that party. I should have been with Jack, helping him get over this monstrous girl. I would bring him back to life if I could. I would make him stay here. I would make him live. But I wouldn’t take it back, the time I had with her. Even with what she did.
It’s fucked up.
We’re all a little fucked up in here.
I turn around and walk to the window, shove my hands in my pockets.
“It’s true,” she says quietly behind me, but not meekly. “It’s true, and you know it. You’ve spent three years hating me, three years not even able tothinkabout me without your blood boiling, but that night…Caden, I didn’t fucking send it.”
I don’t say anything.
“And tonight, that wasn’t me either.”
I was the one who kissed her first. Who pushed this boundary. Who crossed the line. I can’t look back at that line though and see regret.
She’s saying something else about the video, but every muscle in my body is tense as I stare out the windows, the curtains open.
Someone is coming down the driveway, their headlights shining into the living room.
She falls silent at my back.
Benji comes to stand next to me, and I can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.
Then Riley comes to stand between us.
“Who is that?” she whispers, twisting her head to look at us, as if we might have another sick surprise planned for her.
But we don’t.
“It’s my dad,” I finally say as we watch him get out of the car and walk to the front door.
THIRTY-SIX
Present
I THOUGHT I was scared before.
When Benji walked into my bedroom, broke into my house. When he threatened my mom if I didn’t come with him. I thought I had been scared then. But that was a different fear. That was a thrill. The excitement of danger that wouldn’t really burn.
Watching Rolland Virani walk up the steps to this house, that’s real fear.
Pure terror.
Caden turns to look at Benji. “Hide her.” I don’t imagine the hatred in his tone.
But Benji is calm. He puts a comforting hand on my back.
“No,” he says, shaking his head, his dark hazel eyes narrowed. “We’ll handle him. She doesn’t need to hide.”
Caden is agitated. “Don’t tell me what she needs, Benji,” he snarls. “My father will hurt her if he sees her here with us.” He looks to me. I don’t know what he sees, but suddenly, recognition slides into his eyes, his shoulders curve inward and he looks more distraught than he has all night as he says, “He already has, hasn’t he?”
