Page 19

Phoebe

Then

“How are things going with Dec?” I ask Claire.

The others are all off skydiving today, which Nick and Hari said was an optional activity.

When I found out what the alternative was—sleeping in and having the day to do absolutely nothing—I jumped at it, no pun intended.

It’s already early afternoon and Claire—the only other person who declined to skydive, which I’m pretty sure is due to the extra cost for the activity—and I only just traipsed down the street to an overpriced café for breakfast.

I take a sip of my Bloody Mary, hoping it will cure my raging hangover.

I lost track of the number of tequila shots I took at the bar last night following the bungee jump.

Unfortunately, it turns out no amount of alcohol in the world could erase from my brain the image of Kyan and Adrien sucking face.

Claire’s smile beams at me from across the table.

“We talked for a while last night. He held my hand on our walk home from the bar.” Her signature red cheeks are flaming. I don’t tell her that I pulled him aside the other night and unsubtly hinted that Claire was interested.

“God, when is one of you going to get some balls and make a move?”

I intend for it to come out joking, lighthearted, but I hear a snarl in my tone. Claire flinches, her smile dropping, and I regret it instantly. Hurting Claire is like kicking a puppy who wants nothing more than to please you.

“I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about last night,” I admit.

Claire nods. “How are you feeling? I can’t believe Adrien and Kyan had the nerve to make out like that in front of everyone.”

After we left, we all went to the nightclub we’d passed on our way into the hostel.

Adrien and Kyan were the first on the dance floor, arms flung around each other.

Kyan never bothered to look over at me, but Adrien couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away, shooting me victorious looks every chance she got.

The alcohol was the only thing that stopped me from running onto the dance floor and pouring a drink over her head.

“I’m not thrilled about it.”

“I understand,” Claire says. “That was totally uncalled for. I mean, for him to just ditch you like that…”

She keeps talking, but I barely hear her. Her comment brings me back to that house. To him . To the voice I can’t seem to shake, the one that always hovers directly next to my ear.

He ditched you because you are worthless. Look at that girl, Adrien. How could you ever think you could compete with that?

“Phoebs?” Claire nudges, and it’s clear it’s not the first time she’s tried to get my attention.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mutter.

“I was just saying, Kyan seems a bit, I don’t know, superficial? Like he’s only interested in looks, and once someone prettier comes along…”

Her face flames again as she catches herself.

She’s right. He would never be into you. Especially if he knew what you were really like.

“I’m sorry, Phoebs. That came out wrong.”

“It’s fine,” I shake it away. Because honestly, her comment gave me an idea. Kyan is superficial. And suddenly, I know how to get back at Adrien.

And I remember what I did to silence that voice the first time.

“Can I ask you a question?” Claire asks, her tone suddenly sheepish.

You just did , I want to say, but swallow it down. That’s a lame dad joke, not one that this version of Phoebe would make. “Shoot,” I say instead.

“Why did you choose this trip?” I don’t answer right away, and Claire rushes to fill the pause. “It’s just, neither one of us is really that into extreme adventures. I mean, we’re the only ones who chose Bloody Marys over skydiving today.”

I consider my response. My first instinct is to lie, but something stops me. “It was the furthest place from Atlanta. And I needed to get away. To start over.”

Claire leans forward, rests her chin on her hands. “Get away from what?”

I sigh. Am I really doing this?

Claire’s dark eyes are filled with concern. And I realize she’s the only person who cares about me— really cares about me. And as pathetic as it sounds, maybe she’s the only person that ever has.

I sigh, preparing myself to finally release the words that have lain stagnant in my chest for years.

“I had a…rough childhood, I guess. There was someone who didn’t treat me well.

He used to say things to me. Horrible things.

He did things as well, things I don’t want to talk about.

” I focus my gaze on the drink in front of me, unable to look her in the face as I confess.

If I see the compassion in her eyes, I won’t make it through. “So I did something to stop it.”

I hear her inhale sharply. “What did you do?”

The question is quiet, hesitant.

“I—”

“You ladies all set here?” The waitress’s bubbly voice makes me jump. I was so absorbed in my confession, I didn’t even notice her approach our table.

“We’re fine, thank you.”

As Claire answers, I look at her. The innocence, the goodness she wears like a shield.

She would never understand. If I told her the truth, she’d never look at me the same again.

And how could she? She’d become just like everyone else, all those people who jumped so quickly to judgment, never able to understand. She’d think I’m a monster.

And in that second, I decide.

“So, what did you do?” she asks tentatively once the waitress has left.

“He’d sent me a naked photo. I printed it out and hung it up all over the lockers at our high school.” The lie rushes from my lips.

After a second, she laughs. “Well, it sounds like he deserved it.”

I force myself to laugh as well, propelling air through the tightness in my chest.

“He did.”