He kept holding me, but I felt him suck in a sharp breath, and I knew that I could never take the words back. I kept crying against him, and he kept stroking my back, but his touch was different.
Downstairs the back porch creaked as somebody stepped on the boards, and although Tristen and I should have been terrified—whether it was his dad coming to kill him or my mom about to catch us together in bed—neither one of us seemed to have the energy even for fear. We just kept lying there together as the door opened and my mom’s familiar, light steps stole into the kitchen and up the stairs, headed straight for her room.
“I never slept with Becca,” Tristen whispered when my mother shut her door. “She lied to you.”
I wished then that his dad had come to my house. I would have stepped between them and taken the violence that Tristen expected. It felt like I’d already been stabbed and was dying.
I shouldn’t have trusted Becca, even though we’d been friends since kindergarten. I should have asked Tristen. I could have trusted him to tell the truth.
Me—ultimately it had been me who had ruined everything. And it was too late to fix what I’d said to him.
I hate you so much, Tristen.
He pulled away from me and swung his legs off the bed. “I’m going now.”
I wanted to beg him to stay, but I knew he wouldn’t. “Okay.”
He sat on the edge of my bed, lacing on his shoes. “We have the presentation tonight,” he reminded me. He didn’t sound hurt. Just detached and practical. “We leave right after school.”
“Tristen, you don’t have to help me.”
He stood. “We have a deal, and I’m an honorable person.”
I didn’t know if he meant to hurt me by rubbing my nose in my own shame or if he was just stating a fact about himself, but the words stung, and when he was gone, I curled up on my side and cried until dawn.
I never did learn what my alter ego had done that night, but later when I looked in my mirror, I saw two holes in my ears that hadn’t been there before, and I hoped that they were the only way I’d let myself be violated.
Chapter 83
Tristen
AFTER I LEFT JILL’S HOUSE, I broke into the school one final time. I moved through the hallways without fear, because I had nothing left to lose. Jill had said she hated me, and her words had left me cold inside. To make matters worse, I knew that she was right to despise me. I had carelessly kissed her and cleaved and corrupted her soul.
Locating my locker, I spun the combination—one lock that I didn’t have to pick—and tugged on the handle. Reaching behind my jacket, I dug into the plastic bag and retrieved the Gatorade bottle full of formula. Uncapping it, I went to the closest water fountain and dumped the contents down the drain, rinsing away every last drop.
I’d given up hope of curing my father, and I wouldn’t leave any extra lying around for Jill or anyone else to find, in the event of my death.
Tossing the empty bottle in a trash can, I left the school and went home and waited for dawn, just wishing the contest was over. Because after we won the money, I would destroy the notes and the list of salts. And when they were gone, all that would be left of the formula on this earth would be the portion that Jill had just lied about not having.
Chapter 84
Jill
I RAPPED ON MOM’S OPEN bedroom door, and she smiled at me, shaking out a red dress. “Good morning!”
I leaned against the door frame, holding a bowl of cold cereal that I was trying to force down, although I wasn’t hungry. “That’s a pretty fancy outfit for visiting Aunt Christine,” I noted, watching her fold the dress and tuck it in the open suitcase on her bed. “I guess you guys are going out, huh?”
She stayed bent over the suitcase, not looking at me. “It never hurts to be ready.” She straightened and frowned at me. “I’m really sorry about missing your presentation. You’re sure you don’t mind if I’m away this weekend?”
I swallowed a soggy lump of Cheerios. “Just have a good trip, okay?”
She came over to me, arms outstretched. “Thanks, Jilly.” Then she hugged me, nearly spilling my cereal. Her body finally felt substantial against mine. “And good luck. I’ll call tonight for all the details.”
“Sure.” I pulled away. “I need to get ready for school. I have a chem test today, too.”
Mom smiled again as she continued packing. “You’ll do fine with both things, I’m sure.”
“Thanks.” As I turned to go to my room, I saw my mother folding her black dress, too, and I thought she was probably expecting too much excitement from a weekend in Cape May with her sister. But I was too preoccupied with a sadness that bordered on numbness, and a vengeful scheme I had planned, to dwell on Mom’s life.
Chapter 85
Jill
“JILL, WHAT HAPPENED after the party?” Becca whispered.
“Nothing,” I said, but the blood drained from my face. I’d gone to the party . . .
She gave me a knowing smile. “I told you the party would help. You definitely got over Tristen!”
“I guess so,” I agreed. What had I—had that thing I’d unleashed—done to “get over Tristen”? Something with a boy? But it didn’t matter, I reminded myself. The night was over, and Tristen and I were over. Nothing really mattered.
“You have forty minutes to complete the test,” Mr. Messerschmidt said, beginning to hand out the exams, offering Darcy a stack.
She turned to pass copies to me, and