“Good,” he says. “Then I can replace all this shit with normal fucking furniture.” He puts his hands on his hips. “If you repeat that to Olivia, I’m going to deny it until my last breath.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I say.
“The fridge is stocked, and so is the freezer. TV remote is there.” He points to the middle of the table.
“How bad was it?” I look at him, and he just looks at me.
“Bad,” he answers. “But it’s not my story to tell.”
“Did you ever tell them where I was?” I ask.
“Only Beau and Jacob knew,” he answers. “I think they shared it, but I never asked.”
“Fuck,” I say, shaking my head.
“Yeah,” Casey says. “That is what we all said. Call me if you have any questions.” Casey starts to walk out of the house and then stops. “They don’t know everything.” I close my eyes. “Figured that was your story to tell them.” He walks out of the room, and only when I hear the front door slam do I allow my shoulders to slump.
Chapter Seven
Emily
I don’t bother wiping the tears from my face as I drive away. I’m on autopilot as I head back to my house. Parking in the driveway, I don’t even bother grabbing my bag before I drag my ass into the house. As soon as the door closes behind me and I’m in the safety of my own house, my body gives out.
I collapse against the front door, and my legs give out at the same time the sob rips through me. I lie here in the fetal position as the tears pour out of me, and my body shakes with the sobs that come with it. My eyes remain open, so I can’t replay this afternoon and seeing him again over and over in my head.
I hear car doors shut, and then I hear my best friend Jenna start to yell. “She’s home. Brett, get my keys in my purse.”
I try to move, but I only have enough strength to get away from the door and sit with my back against the wall. I hear the key in the lock and just wait for the door to open. She spots me right away. My best friend since we were seven, and she moved in next door to us. We have been through everything together—first kisses, first periods, and the first time we got caught sneaking out. The first time we decided to do homemade perms that made our hair look like poodles.
“Oh, shit,” she says when she spots me. Rushing to me, she squats in front of me and takes my face in her hands. “That fucking piece of …” she mumbles before I hear Brett behind her.
“She doesn’t need this shit.” I hear her husband, Brett, behind her. “Move out of the way, darling.” The two of them started dating at the same time Ethan and I did. We would go on double dates, but Brett was younger than Ethan, so they didn’t have much in common. “I gotcha,” he says, leaning down and picking me up like a baby.
“I can walk.” I lie to them, and Brett just rolls his eyes. He walks me over to the couch and places me down while Jenna rushes to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of whiskey that I keep on hand.
“I don’t think drinking is the right thing to do,” Brett says, looking at Jenna. He’s six foot five, and she is five foot two. He has blond hair and blue eyes while she has black hair and black eyes. They are complete opposites, yet together they are one.
“Where is Drew?” Brett looks at me.
“He’s at his place,” I say, and he looks up at the ceiling. “I told him to go.”
“I don’t care what you told him,” Brett says. “How could he just leave you like that?”
“Douchebag,” Jenna mumbles. The two of them are like oil and water, and Drew has told me time and time again how he doesn’t like her. Jenna, on the other hand, tolerates him just for me.
“I told him to go home.” I look at her, trying to defend him.
She slams the bottle of whiskey on the counter. “I don’t care if you told him to go home. The point is, you needed him. How could he not see?”
“Jenna,” Brett says in a warning tone. “Now is not the time.”
“It’s never the time.” She throws her hands up. “It’s now or never, Brett.” She looks at me. “Drew is an asshole.” I’m about to say something, but she puts up her hand to stop me. “And I know you say you love him, but do you really?”
“Of course I do,” I say, but the words don’t even sound sincere to me. “He …”
“He what?” She opens the bottle of whiskey, taking a pull and then hissing. “That’s so gross.” She points at the bottle. “How do you drink this?”
“I don’t drink it,” I say. “Billy gave it to me.”
“Jesus H,” Brett says. “Don’t drink anymore of that. It’s his special blend.”
“What does that mean?” I ask the same time as Jenna.
“It means you are going to get drunker than a skunk if you drink anymore,” he says, and Jenna nods her head.
“Good.” She walks over to me and sits beside me. “Here, drink up.”
“I’m going to go and get food,” Brett says. “For later.” He turns and walks out of the house. I take the bottle from her and bring it to my lips and take a sip. The amber liquid burns all the way down to my stomach.
“That is so gross,” I say. “Maybe it tastes better cold.”
“Maybe it tastes better after we’re drunk,” she says, taking another sip from the bottle. “Still not good.”
I put my head down on the side of the cushion. “My heart is broken,” I whisper. She’s the only one I will tell all my secrets to. The only one I
