Those words—they had to be a warning.
“Sam!”
A strangled sob escaped me. I couldn’t face him, couldn’t even look at him without giving myself some time to reason this through.
Carson caught up to me before I even reached the halfway point. Catching my arm, he spun me around. He was bare from the waist up, pants not even buttoned in his haste to reach me.
“What’s going on, Sam?” he demanded, eyes wide and dilated.
I tried to wrestle my arm free. “Please, just let me go. Please.”
He held on. “What’s wrong? Did we go too fast? Just talk to me, Sam.”
My breath caught as my eyes met his, and another crack pierced my heart. “Did you do it?”
“Did I do what?” He reached with his free hand, brushing back my hair. “Talk to me, Sam. Help me understand what’s going on. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
The tenderness in his voice caused my chest to squeeze. How could he be like this after what he’d done? It made all this incredibly surreal. “I … I remembered something.”
Confusion poured from him, so sincere I started to doubt myself. “Okay. What?”
“It was about you,” I said, my pulse pounding. “I knew you were paying Dianna—cheating on your history exams. I must’ve told Cassie, and I … I threatened you at school, when you were leaving the library. You told me that if I told anyone, I’d regret it.”
Carson dropped my arm and took a step back. “Sam …”
I trembled at the weight of his one word. “I told you I was going to tell the principal.”
“You … you think …?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “You think it was me because of that?”
“There was a third person there, and you … you had reason. …”
He stared at me, pain—not anger—contorting his face, and my conviction started to waver even more.
“I can’t believe you,” he said, stunned.
“Me?” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.
“Yes! You! My god, I thought … I thought you’d changed, but that’s the old Sammy. Jumping from one messed-up assumption to another, making everything about you!” He stepped forward, eyes flashing in the thin slice of moonlight. “What the fuck, Sam?”
“But I saw you with her, you were giving her money, and I threatened you. I told Cassie! We were planning to go to the principal.” Even as those words left my mouth, I had a second to realize how truly bitchtastic I’d been. Sure, cheating was wrong, but jeez.
Carson stared at me, then laughed grimly. “You have no clue what you saw.”
“Then tell me because I really don’t want to believe this!”
He flinched, and again, I was hit with another pang of doubt. He was angry with me, but not in the way I thought he’d be, and there was too much hurt behind his words, in his eyes. “You saw me paying Dianna. That did happen. But I was paying her to tutor me in history.”
My arms fell to my sides. “What?” I choked out.
“Yeah, that’s what I was paying her for—still am. My dad has been working overtime for your father to get that money, cleaning his offices and doing all kinds of bitch work so I’ll keep my scholarship.”
I remembered what my mom had said. Guilt whipped through me with barb-tipped lashes. Oh my god, how could I be so … so wrong? “Why didn’t you tell me when I accused you?”
“Why did I need to? Why did I owe you, of all people, the truth then? You wouldn’t have believed me.” He drew in a deep breath and cursed. “Jesus, Sam, you thought it was me? That I pushed Cassie off a cliff and then you?”
Tears built in my eyes as I pushed my wind-tossed hair out of my face. “But you said I’d regret it.”
Carson jerked back from me as if I’d slapped him. And maybe a slap would’ve been better. Since the accident, Carson had been there for me and he hadn’t doubted me once. And I had.
“As in one day, you’d regret the things that you’ve done. Not in the way you think—wait. You really think I meant I’d hurt you? Even after I told you how I felt?” When he saw the answer in my expression, he swore again. “I could never, ever hurt you. You could’ve gone to the principal or whoever, and I wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it.”
“Why didn’t I go to the principal or Cassie?”
“I don’t know.” He took a breath, exhaling harshly. “I’d like to think you had a change of heart, but that’s doubtful. You and Cassie disappeared that weekend.”
And I knew then he was telling the truth, and I had acted impulsively when I came out of the memory. I couldn’t see through the tears as I reached for him blindly. “Carson, I’m so—”
“You’re sorry?” He dodged me, backing away as he shook his head. “Not as sorry as I am.”
My heart cracked straight down the middle. “I’m so sorry. I’m just confused. I only remembered—”
“And you automatically assumed that I was capable of those things? Why? Because I seem likely to bribe, cheat, and murder someone? Then hang around you and sleep with you after I tried to kill you?” Pain lanced his words, as if I’d cut open a fresh wound. “Because the old Sammy would have believed those things, but I thought she was gone. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Carson—”
“No.” He kept backing up, his jaw clenched tight. “No. You’re still the same old Sammy. Just not as mean as you used to be, but she’s still there. Stupid me to think any different.”
Apologizing felt stupid and pointless. What I’d accused him of was terrible, but I couldn’t stop. I needed him to know how awful I felt. Hurrying toward him, my foot caught on the gown and I stumbled forward.
Carson caught me by the arms before I could crash face-first into the hard ground. “Jesus, Sam,” he said through clenched teeth.
I pressed my forehead against his bare chest, barely able to breathe past the tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m just so confused.”
His hands fluttered around my arms and a second later, he wrapped me against him, burying his face in my hair. His embrace lasted only a few moments at most, and then he let go and stepped back.
“Go home, Sam.” His voice was tight, choked. “Just go home.”
Standing there, I watched him turn and jog away, disappearing into the shadows. An ache opened in my chest, rushing through me. I could’ve gone after him again, but I knew … I knew I’d lost him before I really even had him.
When I woke up the following morning, every part of my body ached for different reasons. Some of it was good. Most of it was bad. I didn’t want to open my eyes or get out of bed, but I became aware of the fact that I wasn’t alone.
My brother sat at the head of my bed, legs crossed at the ankles and the morning newspaper in his lap—the sports section.
Rubbing my hand over my swollen eyes, I scowled. “What are you doing in here?”
“Hmm … questions, questions. I have some of my own.” He folded the newspaper and dropped it on the floor. “What happened last night?”
I stared at him, in no mood for brotherly caring-and-sharing time.
He raised his hand. “I’m curious. You left prom after only being there an hour. Carson took you home, apparently. Del looked like I’d punched him again, but I didn’t.” He paused, ticking each one off his finger. The ring finger was next. “I went running with Carson this morning, and all he would say is that you had some memories come back and then he wouldn’t talk at all. Aaaaand …”