One Week Girlfriend - By Monica Murphy Page 0,53

ignore it. I really want to know how she died. I don't know why it's bothering me so much, but everyone in this family is so damn secretive about everything. This one little detail is major and I want to know.

I have to know.

A shuddering breath leaves Drew and I can't take it anymore. Stepping closer to him, I grab hold of his arm and squeeze it, wanting him to know I'm there for him if he needs anything. He hauls me in closer, his arm going around my shoulders and the next thing I know, he's embracing me, his face buried in my hair, his arms wound so tight around me, I can hardly breathe.

But I let him hang on to me. He needs the comfort. I do too.

"It's my fault," I hear him murmur against my hair. "I was watching her outside while my dad took a phone call. And then...then I left."

A prickly sensation skitters down my spine and I try to keep myself relaxed so he doesn't catch on that what he's said disturbs me. Yet I want him to be open with me, not close himself off.

"It was an accident." I have no idea since no one's told me, but it seems the right thing to say. "It wasn't anyone's fault."

"No." He sets me away from him, his blue eyes blazing as he stares down at me. His body vibrates with emotion and he runs a shaky hand through his hair. "Did Adele tell you what happened? Did she?"

"I - no." I shake my head, gasping when he grasps me by the shoulders and gives me a little shake. "She didn't tell me anything. Only that she died."

He pushes me away, cursing under his breath and I stumble, stunned that he would treat me that way. He's walking away, his head down, his strides quick and I follow him, confused and angry and suddenly wishing I would've never come with him to this horrible, depressing place.

"Where are you going?" I yell, huffing and puffing against the wind and the cold, pissed that his long legs give him such the advantage.

"I need to be alone."

"Give me a break," I mutter, increasing my speed. "You can't avoid the bad shit forever, you know," I tell him.

He whirls on me, his face contorted with so much conflicting emotion, it's like he's a different person. "You don't know me. I don't avoid the bad shit. I fucking live it every single day of my life!"

I'm taken aback by his outburst, again with the show of emotion. Even though he's taking all of his anger and turmoil out on me, this has to be good for him, right? "You don't have to deal with it by yourself, you know. It's okay to grieve and talk about her."

"I grieve and it's full of guilt. It's my fault my baby sister got inside the pool area and drowned. I was supposed to stay outside and watch her but I - I didn't. I thought the gate was closed." He thrusts both hands through his hair, clutching at the dark strands as he stares unseeingly at me. "It's my fault and her fault."

"Her fault? Do you mean Vanessa?" She was practically a baby! How could he say that?

"No, fuck of course not. Her fault. God." His voice catches on a sob and I realize tears are streaming down his cheeks. Seeing them, seeing him so distressed makes my heart ache, but I'm afraid to go to him. Afraid he'll only push me away and I can't stand the thought of that. Him grieving alone, thinking this is somehow all his fault and whoever else's.

I'm so confused. And honestly?

I'm afraid to ask.

"Tell me what happened," I demand, deciding to be brave and face this head on. "How did your sister die?"

Drew wipes furiously at his face, banishing the tears as we head back toward Vanessa's gravesite. I give him a moment, sitting on a bench nearby. The tree branches above my head wave with the wind, and I shiver beneath my too-thin coat, watching him as he begins to pace directly in front of me.

"I was outside. Hanging out with my dad and enjoying the sun. That Thanksgiving break, it was warmer than usual, and I was riding high after doing so well during my first year on the team." His voice trails off and he looks lost in thought. "Adele had been gone most of the day, shopping for Christmas presents. She asked