smile on me and says, “I’m—“
“Jillian,” I say and the whole room stills. I glance around and meet Rike’s eyes, shocked and almost hurt where he’s sitting in a chair near the window. Scott is leaning against it, and his hand lands on Rike’s shoulder, holding him there as I swing my eyes back to Jillian and then to Lindsay. “Not Jillian?” I say lamely.
“You remember me?”
It clicks with a suddenness that makes me sway on my crutches, and Rike is moving, catching me before Scott can stop him. “Everyone give her a minute to breathe,” he snaps, crouching in front of me. I’m perched on the edge of Lindsay’s bed and his hands are tight on my knees as he kneels there. “What do you remember, baby?”
I can’t look around. I can feel them watching me, the hopeful, hungry stares, and I don’t want to admit the truth. I send Lindsay a pleading look.
“Rike, get out,” Lindsay says abruptly. “Everyone. Out. I need a minute with my girl.”
“Linds, not now,” Rike growls.
“Yes, now. I let you play this your way and you fucked it all up. Now get out and let me talk to her.” Rike doesn’t move and she huffs. “Scotty.”
It pulls the other guy off the window ledge, and toward the man kneeling at my feet. “Come on, man. Let her have this. It can’t hurt, and you can get all your answers as soon as she’s done. Come on. Jim. Jilly. Let’s go.” With a little effort and some cursing from Rike, he herds them out of the room, and it’s just us.
She’s quiet for a long minute. We both are.
“It figures you’d remember Ma. You’ve always adored her.”
“I don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t even know how I knew her name was Jillian. She just feels right—the way I feel around you. And it slipped out.” I twist to look at her. “He’s going to expect me to remember everything now, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she says. “But he’ll take what he gets. We all will. He wants you back, Pey. That’s all any of us want.”
I shift up on the bed, and land on her ankle. “Sorry,” I say, lurching off, and she shrugs. Her face stays blank, except for the flare of sadness that slips over her for just a moment.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“Bad.”
“I’ve been a shitty friend, haven’t I? I’m so sorry, Lindsay.”
“Don’t. It’s my fault we’re even here. I can’t listen to you apologize on top of that. It is what it is—the hand we’ve got. We’ll play it out, just like we always have.”
I nod, and she tugs on my arm until I’m close enough that she can hug me, and I hold her. Neither of us mentions the tears that are spilled. Neither of us lets go, for a long time.
“Lindsay?”
“Hmm?”
“What were we doing that night?”
She releases me slowly. Meets my eyes, hers wide and cornflower blue. Assessing. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear?”
“No. But I’ve been hiding in my little hotel room. It’s comfortable and I don’t really want to venture past it. It’s safe, not knowing who the hell I am and how I ended up with Rike and you and Scott But. It’ not really living, is it?”
She watches me for a moment. Then, “We were at my bachelorette party. A few girls I work with organized it; they were in the wedding. And you were trashed, because you were doing my shots. I wanted to be sober for the wedding.”
“What happened?” I whisper.
She hesitates. And then she tells me everything.
Chapter 13: Before
I don't answer her phone calls. I'm too angry, and there's the simple truth. I want more than just a fun time. I think that's the worst part. That if she were any other girl, I wouldn't give a fuck. It wouldn't matter if Scott liked her or if I could share the important bits of my life with her. I wouldn't give a fuck that she was keeping so much from me. It would be almost a relief.
But because it's Peyton, and because she's been different from the very first time she stumbled into Barrie’s, I care. I can't quit caring. And it's driving me batshit crazy.
So I ignore my phone and Scott ignores my moping and we both ignore the pointed stares Lindsay gives my phone when it rings. She's spending more time at our apartment. It makes me vaguely nervous. She's overlap in a relationship that I have very little control