Please Don't Tell - Laura Tims Page 0,79

the stairs?

I was wrong. I didn’t tell her every secret.

“November Roseby said you were sick. She gave me your address.” Levi stares at my posters, at my bookshelf, like they’re fascinating. My room’s not as horrifying as it was a month ago, but it’s still pretty bad. I don’t freak out about it, though, or the fact that I haven’t brushed my hair in three days, or that I’m wearing one of Dad’s old shirts, because if Grace comes in—

“Are you drinking enough water?” he stutters. “Do you need orange juice? I can go buy orange juice. Do you need more tissues?”

“You have to leave.” My throat’s full of razor blades. This is the one thing left that could mess things up again.

“That’s fair. I figured you’d feel that way.” He sets the Tupperware on my bedside table and turns to go.

Grace still sleeps so late. She’s probably asleep now. I can risk a few minutes.

“What way?” I ask.

“Well.” His voice is scratchy, too, but not because he’s sick. “I’m related to the guy who raped one of your best friends.”

“That’s not why . . .” But I can’t finish my sentence.

“It is.” He won’t meet my eyes. “That’s why you hated Adam. That’s why you didn’t want to be around me at first. And that day it rained, that’s why you pushed me away, right?”

There’s none of his usual humor. Just guilt.

“I didn’t want you to lose your version of him,” I say weakly.

“Fuck that version. When I read that editorial . . .” He stops halfway to my door. “My first thought was, what’s going to happen if my dad sees it? I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not—”

“Don’t.” His back knots up. “I assumed Adam was this—perfect person.”

I wince away from the self-loathing in his voice.

He twists his earring hard. Then he exhales and forces a smile. “Now I get it. He was never worth knowing, so I don’t have to spend my whole life being sad I didn’t get the chance. I’m glad I never cried about him.”

I blink hard a few times.

“I’ll go now,” he says. “I get that you probably won’t want to be near me, considering genetics.”

“Genetics don’t mean anything.” I sit up. “Just because you’re related to him doesn’t mean you’re like him. Don’t go, okay?”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to make things up to me.” He swallows. “My mom called this morning. She’s been discharged. I’m flying back to Indiana in a couple days.”

There’s a long silence. “That’s great,” I croak, but I’m a jerk for not saying it immediately.

“I was always just here temporarily,” he says helplessly.

“Right. Yeah. Of course.”

“That’s all I had to say.” He smiles sadly. “Feel better.” He turns, and I hear him going down the stairs.

If I don’t follow him, I’ll never see him again.

I’m not ready to let go.

I run to the kitchen. It’s clean, empty. No sign of Grace. But even if she saw Levi, she wouldn’t guess the truth. There’s no Adam in him.

He’s reaching for the door.

“I don’t want you to be temporary,” I blurt.

“Are you, like . . . mad?” he says in a small voice. “That I’m leaving?”

“Did you think I’d be a jerk about it and not be happy that your mom’s okay?” Which is exactly what I’m being. “Did you think I’d flip out? Because, okay, I am flipping out, but that’s only because I’m upset that you thought I’d do that, so this is a self-fulfilled prophecy—”

“Other people, they can hide their reactions,” he cuts in. “Not you. I knew if you said, ‘That’s great, Levi! I’m so happy for you!’ or any nice thing that a friend would say, that’d be the end of it, that’d be how you really felt.”

“I swear, I am happy for you, Levi.” I’m a terrible friend.

He runs his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want that to be your reaction. I wanted you to be pissed that I was leaving.”

“What? Why did you want me to be pissed?”

“Joy? Who’s that?”

I turn and Grace is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a cereal-flecked bowl in her hand, one of the heavy clay ones. All my excuses dissolve on my tongue. I realize with sudden absolute clarity that none of them would matter to her.

She clears her throat. “Sorry . . .”

She doesn’t recognize him. How could she? She doesn’t know.

“You must be Grace.” Levi smiles.

She’s makeupless. Her shirt’s stained. She didn’t know I had someone over. But she can’t run back upstairs, she’s