But Gabriel remembered that first week of eighth grade, when he’d decided he was done cheating, that he didn’t need his brother’s help. He’d struggled to figure out how to solve every problem. Losing three months to his family mess, then another three to summer hadn’t exactly set him up to start pre-algebra. But he’d been ready to put his brain to a task, to do something normal, something routine, when so much of his life wasn’t.
Then Nick had come into his room with an identical paper. “Here,” he’d said, and his voice had been almost proud. “I did your math.”
Gabriel glanced across at Layne, who was still waiting, still listening. “Nick wasn’t into sports or anything. He needed to be doing something, to be helping. To have a purpose. I didn’t want to take it away from him.” He snorted. “Christ, that sounds lame.”
“No,” she said. “No, I think I get it.”
“At first I would do the work and throw it away. But I hated lying to him, so I stopped. Then I hit high school and made varsity freshman year, and it was just one less class to worry about. Now I’m so far behind that I don’t think I’ll ever make up the difference.”
“I’ll help you,” she said.
“You can try.” He almost reached out to push the hair back from her face. “Your turn.”
She held his eyes. “Truth.”
“How did Taylor get you to that party, really?” He gave her a quick once-over. “Especially looking like that.”
She shifted to look out at the darkness. “I changed my mind. Dare.”
Gabriel slid his cell phone out of his pocket and held it out. “Okay. Here. I dare you to call your father and tell him you’re sitting in a dark parking lot with me.”
“Ooooh.” She glared up at him without any real malice. “I don’t think I like this game.”
He smiled. “Come on, pony up.”
She folded her arms across her stomach and sighed. Her voice came out very small, warring with the crickets and water. “Taylor told me that she’d talked to you and that you hoped to see me there. My friend Kara picked my clothes.”
Oh.
Suddenly he felt like he’d had a hand in this, though he hadn’t known anything about it. “Layne,” he said. “Taylor never talked to me. I swear—”
“I know! I figured it out, okay? That’s why I feel like such an idiot.”
Navigating this conversation made controlling fire seem easy. “But I would have—”
“Don’t. Please don’t.”
“Layne, let me—”
“Your turn!”
He drew back and sighed. “Truth.”
“How did your parents die?”
The words felt like a weapon, as if she were trying to hurt him for asking her something that obviously left her off balance. But his parents’ deaths were just another bolt of guilt that struck him on a daily basis.
“In a fire,” he said flatly. “They were arguing with the parents of some kids who used to hassle us. The house burned down. Not everyone got out.”
She stared at him for the longest moment. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Why would I make that up?”
Her mouth worked like she wanted to say something, but the words couldn’t quite make it out. He knew that expression, and he couldn’t take one more ounce of pity. So he made his voice hard. “Your turn.”
She licked her lips. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Truth.”
He wanted to fire an arrow back, something to make her flinch, too. “Why did Ryan Stacey say you were deformed?”
Of course it did make her flinch, but it made him feel like an ass.
She didn’t look at him, but she answered. “Because I have scars all the way up the right side of my body.”
“Yeah? From what?”
“From a house fire,” she said. “My house burned down when I was five.”
Shit.
Now he was the one staring. “Layne,” he ground out. “Layne, I’m—”
“I really don’t like this game.” Her legs swung off the tailgate, and her feet crunched on the rough pavement.
“Stop,” he said. “Layne—”
“See, Gabriel?” she called over her shoulder. “I’m not perfect either, right?”
Then she was running, and the darkness swallowed her up.
CHAPTER 24
The short skirt made for easy running. The scent of grass and water was in Layne’s nose, and she really had no idea where she was going, except away. The sound of her breath filled her ears, ragged and almost sobbing. Thank god the parking lot was empty, because she couldn’t see a thing except for the industrial plants across the water. Pavement gritted beneath her boots, then grass as she stumbled and almost missed a curb.
She couldn’t believe she’d told Gabriel about the fire.
Really, like it mattered. Her scars would be all over the Internet tomorrow.
She’d kept a secret for ten years, and now everyone knew.
“Layne. Stop.”
Of course he’d follow. He didn’t even sound breathless. “Go away,” she yelled. “I’ll call my dad to come get me. Just—”
The ground went out from under her. She sucked in a breath, flailing for balance. Arms came around her waist from behind, jerking her back, keeping her feet in the air.
She fought, feeling his chest at her back, but he was too strong.
“Damn it,” he said, his voice strained. “Do you want to go in the water?”
That forced her still. Red and white lights still hung in the distance, warring with the stars. Now that she wasn’t running, the sound of waves hitting the rocks was unmistakable.
And right in front of her.
“The water?” she said numbly.
He put her feet on the ground, but he didn’t let her go. “Yeah. Water. Did you miss the part where I said we’re parked on a peninsula?”
“Wow,” she whispered. Talk about a night going from bad to worse.
“If I let you go, are you going to take off again?”
She shook her head. But she didn’t want him to let her go, either.
He did anyway. “You’re lucky you didn’t break an ankle.”
“Thanks.” She still hadn’t turned to face him. “For catching me.” Then she added, “And for punching Ryan. I should have thanked you for that before.”
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me for that. He’s lucky I left the party to run after you.”
The heat in his voice made her shiver. She’d seen blood on Ryan’s face.
But she couldn’t summon the righteous indignation she’d felt in the hallway when Gabriel had hassled those bullies. The only things at risk that day had been school papers and hurt feelings. She had no idea what Ryan had planned—or what else Taylor had paid him for—but she wasn’t naïve enough to think he would have stopped there.
“Are you cold?” said Gabriel. He hadn’t stepped back, but he wasn’t close enough to touch anymore. “There’s a fleece blanket in the car.”
Layne shook her head and turned away, keeping her eyes on the lights across the water. She wondered if he was thinking about her scars. For the first time, she understood that expression about the gorilla in the corner of the room. She’d always thought being burned in a house fire was one of the worst possible things that could ever happen. Then he went and yanked the rug out from under her, saying his parents had died in one. For some reason it made her feel ridiculous and furious all at once.
“You know,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to keep running from me.”