really knows? Several? None? Everyone was surprised about Bunny. Certain blond rowers I know that shall not be named ever, ever again because they are dicks, and I can’t believe I ever allowed myself to trust them—”
Yikes. Honestly, I’d rather not discuss Adrian Summers ever again either. Ever-ever.
“—these certain people said the whole Bunny and Lucky thing must’ve been a one-time hookup situation, because they definitely weren’t an ongoing item. Maybe it’s just a rumor. Or maybe he’s a serial dater.”
I don’t like that. At all. It reminds me of my mom’s dating habits, all wrapped up in lies and sneaking around, and kids at school whispering “Wild Winona.” It makes me a little sick to my stomach, to be honest.
I don’t know why I care. Lucky can do what he wants.
“Why is he dressed up like that?” I ask. Irritated that he might be a serial dater. Irritated that it bothers me. That I don’t know anything about a boy I used to know, who stuck his neck out for me. “Looks like he’s going to church or a funeral.”
“Or an arraignment,” Evie says. “They’re going to the courthouse.”
Stomach in knots. Guilt. Shame. Worry.
“Entire Karras family en force,” Evie notes. “Aunts, uncles, grandparents. I think that’s Kat Karras’s sister and two of her kids. Damn. They aren’t screwing around.”
“Is that their lawyer?” I whisper.
“Yeah. Think that’s Gina Garcia. She’s not cheap. But if anyone’s going to fight the Summers family, she’s a good choice.”
Guilt. Shame. Sickness.
I watch the entire Karras family piling into several cars, patting Lucky on the back for support, looking serious yet positive, ready to fight for him, the boy who didn’t even do this thing, and, and—
“It was me,” I whisper into Evie’s hair.
The stool squeaks as she stiffens. Doesn’t say anything.
“I did it,” I whisper again. “I threw the rock. I broke the window.”
“What?” she mouths back at me, eyes big as moons as she quickly glances around the store to check where my mother is. And then again: “What?”
“I didn’t mean to break the window!” I whisper into my hands, watching Lucky’s head ducking inside his father’s truck. “I meant to hit the metal letters above the glass, but I guess my arm isn’t all that strong, and I missed. And Lucky had followed me there from the party on his bike. I guess he was worried that I was walking home alone, because we’d talked at the party. We barely even talked! Only for a few minutes. He said he was a bad flirter, and I didn’t even know we were flirting, and seriously, why does he have to be so hot now?”
“Oh, cuz.”
“We barely talked. I swear.”
Long enough for me to spill my guts to him about my Los Angeles plans.
But I don’t say this, of course.
“And then he followed me, and I was so angry about the photo … I threw the rock, and the alarm went off,” I tell her. “The security guard caught us, but the cop didn’t care who did it—he took us both in. Said they could sort it out at the station. So we got hauled off together. I told Lucky I’d clear things up and make sure they knew I did it. But I guess he told the police he did it, and they let me go free.”
“Son of a bitch,” Evie murmurs, blinking at me in surprise.
“Mom believed it,” I say. “And she said it would be a felony, and I got scared, and I didn’t know what to do. But I don’t want him to go to jail for me. I don’t even know him anymore! Now everything’s way out of control, and there he goes, and I can’t even talk to him before he gets sent off to death row—”
“He’s not going to death row.”
“I don’t know what to do, Evie. We used to be best friends, but we barely know each other now. I can’t let him do this for me. It’s too weird, right?”
She looks rattled. She never looks rattled. Only two times in the months since we’ve moved here has she been anything but unflappable and even-keeled: last night when Adrian was fighting with her, and now. This time it’s my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I just got so mad. The Harvard rower whose name we aren’t speaking made you cry at the party, and the photo—”
I can’t finish. I’m too upset now. Thankfully, I don’t have to, because Evie’s eyes are glossy with emotion, and in