Page 69 of Ghosts Don't Cry

I don’t answer because I’m already moving, sliding out of the booth to cross the room without looking back. Cassidy calls my name. I ignore her, and step outside before I can second-guess myself.

It’s cold outside, but I don’t care about that. All I can think about is the way his expression changed at Kate’s words, and the way he looked at me before he left. I don’t think he meant to, but the look told me he was drowning.

I turn in a slow circle, looking for him, and well-timed car headlights show me where he is. He hasn’t gone far, just enough to disappear into the shadows at the side of the building. He’s leaning against the wall, his head bowed and arms folded, trying to fold in on himself.

For a split second, his image is overlaid by that of the boy who used to hide in the library during lunch. The one who thought no one saw him.

But I did. Ialwaysdid.

When he turns, that boy is gone. In his place stands someone carved from stone and shadows, but his tells are still there. The slight tremor in his left hand, the way he keeps his spine too straight, his shoulders thrown back, as though he’s forcing himself not to curve them inward.

Seven years, and I can still read him like a book I’ve memorized.

“Here to make sure I haven’t gone off the deep end?” His voice is sharp and mocking. “Congratulations, now you can run back in and tell them what a mess I am.” There’s an edge to his voice that I remember too well. It used to creep in when he felt cornered, when I got too close to truths he didn’t want to talk about.

“You don’t get to do this.” The words snap out of me before I can think better of them.

He pushes away from the wall and takes a step toward me. “Do what?”

“Pretend you don’t care. Usethemto hurt me.”

He laughs, the sound loud and discordant. “Not everything is about you, Lily.” But his fingers twitch at his sides, curling into fists and releasing. Some habits don’t change, even when everything else seems to.

“Then why did you keep looking at me? Why did you make sure I saw every touch, every time they put their hands on you?” My voice rises. “Youwantedme to see. You wanted me to feel it.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

“Maybe I like an audience.” The words are cool, but there’s something else there. A look in his eyes that takes me back to thefactory, to nights when he’d push me away only to pull me closer again, terrified of wanting me but unable to stop.

“You’re a liar.” I close the distance between us, anger propelling me forward. “Tell me you weren’t watching me while they touched you. Tell me you didn’t tense up every single time.”

His breath hisses between his teeth. “What if I did?”

“Why?” My stomach twists, but I don’t back down. “Why do that to yourself? Why do it tome?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, his entire body coiled tight. “You think you know me so well.”

“Idoknow you.” I’m close enough now to see his pupils dilate. His throat works as he swallows. “And you hate it, because I can see right through the act you’re putting on.”

“You don’t know shit.” His voice has lost its edge, turned rough in a different way. “Thisiswho I am. I let them put their hands all over me because it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Prove it.” I lift my chin. “Prove you don’t care. Prove I’m wrong.”

His expression shifts, his eyes dropping to my mouth, and the air between us changes.

“You need to walk away.” The words sound like a warning.

“No.”

He moves fast. One second, we’re standing two feet apart, the next my back is against rough brick, and his body is caging me in. The impact steals my breath away.

“You think you still know me, Lily?” His voice is a low rasp, his face inches from mine.

I don’t even hesitate. “Yes. And I think it scares you.”

The only warning I get is a slight shift in his stance before his hand lifts and slams against the wall beside my head. The sound cracks through the night air.