The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,484

I can see him blush. He kicks at a stone with the tip of his sneaker. “Sorry to startle you. I saw you on the trail from my house,” he says, gesturing to the darkness below us. “I was watching the stars. There’s a meteor shower tonight.”

“Oh.”

Ethan watches me intently, and I suddenly feel self-conscious. There’s blood caked on one leg where I scraped myself, and I’ve fallen in the dirt a half dozen times. I run my fingers through my hair and come away with a leaf in my hand.

Ethan steps closer, and I can see him more clearly now. A concerned frown crumples his brow. It seems odd that he’s out so late, but Ethan’s always been a little bit odd—I remember him carrying around a tarantula in a jar in junior high, and getting in trouble during gym class for looking at the flowers in the outfield when he was supposed to be playing baseball. He’s not exactly in my circle—he’s cute enough, but he’s always been so shy. Then recently, he walked in on a Lying Game prank gone out of control. It was Laurel’s stupid snuff film, and Ethan had pulled her off me and then stayed with me while my head cleared.

Now he shifts his weight, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you okay? You look . . . well, you look like you’ve had a long night.”

“Oh, yeah . . . I’m okay.” My smile trembles a little and then collapses. “It’s been a really weird night, is all.”

He touches my shoulder, his hand warm through my shirt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

And suddenly, I do. My voice shaking and weak, I tell him everything. About Thayer coming to town, and how we fought, and how someone ran him down. About my dad being my grandfather, and Becky appearing after I’d wondered about my birth mother so long. About how Garrett had been getting out of control, so angry and so hurt he lashed out at everything around him. It all comes flooding out of me. Ethan doesn’t try to interrupt or offer advice. He just nods every now and then, watching me steadily through his long lashes.

“I feel like a different person than when I climbed up here,” I finish. “I know that sounds lame. But so much has happened.”

“It doesn’t sound lame,” he says. “You’ve been through a lot tonight.” His eyes are focused on my face. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve just told him things I’m not even ready to tell my best friends—and I barely know him. The thought makes me a little nervous. But Ethan’s such a good listener, and he never told anyone about the snuff film. I feel implicitly that I can trust him. When he puts his arm around my shoulder, I feel safe for the first time all night.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I whisper. “I’m not really ready for people to know all this.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’ll keep all your secrets, Sutton.”

My face breaks into a smile. I feel so much lighter after unloading everything that’s happened. Confiding in Ethan feels so natural, so comfortable—I wonder how we’ve been in school together since we were kids and yet barely ever talked. He’s always been so quiet, almost standoffish. Then again, I probably haven’t seemed like the friendliest person to him, either.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not just school where I’ve seen Ethan. We’ve crossed paths countless times, at the coffee shop, at the movie theater. Sometimes he’s hanging out alone at the park when I go to the tennis courts, sitting on a bench reading a paperback. We’ve orbited each other for years, and we’ve never connected. Not until tonight.

I smile up at him. “I never had a chance to tell you thanks. For, you know, helping me that night. When my friends were pranking me.”

He shrugs. “You guys sure play rough with each other.”

“Yeah.” I give an embarrassed laugh. “That one got really out of control.”

“Friends aren’t supposed to hurt each other that way.” His voice sounds strangely choked. I put my arm around his waist and hug him.

“You’re right,” I say softly. “You should be able to count on your friends.”

The stars are vibrant overhead now. I tilt my head up to look at their bright light. One in particular catches my eye, pure white and so steady it doesn’t flicker like the others do. It’s so beautiful I don’t notice