Page 20

WAVERLY

I swallowed thickly and glanced toward Hope and Parker, who’d stuck around after the police had left.

Humiliation swathed me, suffocating me.

But they’d just seen me get scolded by my mother as if I were a delinquent teenager. How lame was that? I felt about as mature as a first grader.

Hope winced as if my pain was hers. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

I scoffed but nodded. “I’m fine.”

Glancing away with the lie, I went to tuck my hair behind one ear, only to be surprised by the new bangs that just came free again.

Ugh, I’d forgotten I’d altered my hair too.

What was Mom going to say about that ? She’d probably drug test me or something, worried about my drastic changes in behavior.

Going to parties, forgetting my phone, cutting my hair. I was out of control.

She’d definitely want me to attend another therapy session this week. That was a given.

“I’m just…mortified,” I admitted, risking another look toward Hope and Parker. My hand motioned lamely in the direction the cops had gone. “I’m really sorry about all the?—”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Parker told me. “You have a mother who cares enough to worry about you.” He hitched his head toward Hope. “That’s more than we have.”

When he looped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side, I nodded, realizing I shouldn’t complain. My mom and dad did love me. I never had to worry about that.

“Doesn’t mean either of us would appreciate the over -parenting, though,” Hope said in my defense.

“Yeah, well.” Parker nodded in agreement. “True. That shit would annoy the hell out of me. I’d be finding my own place to live real quick if I were you. I’ll float you a loan if you want out. Just say the word.”

He would too. As rich as Parker was, he probably wouldn’t let me pay him back either.

I sent him a grateful glance, only to say, “She’d just be over every day to make sure I was okay.” With a shrug, I made a face. “And she has grounds to worry. I haven’t exactly given her a lot of reasons to trust me.”

Parker lifted one eyebrow. “She’s gotta learn to let you go one of these days. You’re not getting any younger.”

This was true. I was an adult now. I should stop worrying about appeasing my mother’s concerns and start being more independent.

Except it was my fault she worried so much.

When I nodded miserably, only feeling worse, Parker motioned between me and my house. “You going to be okay if we take off, or should we stick around for a while?”

“Oh, no.” I waved them away. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine. You go.”

“Well, call if you need anything,” Hope said.

I nodded and sent them a small smile. “Thanks. Sorry again for making you guys go through…all that.”

“It made for an interesting evening,” Parker assured me, then lifted his hand in farewell as he steered Hope away. “Take care, Library Girl.”

I smiled vaguely and watched them go before heading to my front door. I glanced up at the camera briefly, certain Mom had the camera and movement notifications turned on now, pinging her phone as I went inside. I waved at it again, giving her the proof of life she needed.

With a sigh, I dragged my feet over the threshold and shut the door, groaning in defeat as I slumped against the portal and wiped my hands over my face.

“Oh my God,” I groaned. But what a perfectly awful ending to a perfectly disastrous night.

I had ventured out on my own, attempted socialization, had my first consensual sexual encounter, and it felt as if I’d just gotten my hand slapped like a scolded child for even trying to leave my comfort zone.

“You’re an idiot,” I told myself.

There was a reason I never did anything or went anywhere or talked to anyone. Because I always did it all wrong.

Tears filled my eyes, just as my phone chimed with an incoming text.

Xander.

Dammit. She was starting to freak out because she couldn’t find me at the party, and I wasn’t answering my phone.

Because that was all I seemed to be any good at. Worrying people.

I called her back before she could contact the cops as well.

“Oh my God,” she cried as she answered. “Frankie, are you okay? I was about to send out a search party.”

“I’m fine,” I told her. “I’m sorry. I forgot my phone at home, so I didn’t see your messages until I got back.”

“Got back? So you’re home? Right now?”

“Yeah, I?—”

“Oh, Frankie.” She sounded hurt.

Realizing how shitty of a friend I’d been, I dropped to the floor and sat with my back to the door, hugging my knees to my chest. Xander had been counting on me to be there. And I’d failed her too.

I failed at everything.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffed away tears and wiped at my damp face. “I should’ve told you I was going to go. I just?—”

“Are you crying? Oh my God, you’re crying. What happened? Who do I have to kill? Are you okay? I swear, I turned away for one minute and you were gone. I’m such an awful friend. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“You didn’t—” I blinked, stunned she was blaming herself . “I just—I’m not good with parties. And Parker and Hope were leaving, so I just—I got a ride home from them.”

“Parker and Hope drove you home?”

“Yeah.”

“But what happened at the party? Why are you crying?”

“Nothing. I just—sorry. I was ready to leave, that’s all. All the people and the sounds; it was overwhelming for an introvert like me.”

“Frankie—”

“I don’t think I’m going to be very good at this,” I told her abruptly. “At, you know, at friend stuff. You should probably find another one. I—I’m sorry, Xander. Goodbye.”

And I hung up on her.

Because, gah, she’d be better off without a complete mess like me.

For about half an hour there, things had been amazing. I’d felt great. I’d reached out for the first time and tried to connect with another person.

No, scratch that. Xander had reached out to me, but still…

I’d connected with her. And not just her either.

She and Oaklynn and then Hope had made me feel like a part of something.

I’d felt like I was on top of the world, right up until I’d followed Keene outside.

And then I’d leaped right off the world and into the stars.

It still amazed me how I had not only been able to go through with everything we’d done together, but I’d actually enjoyed it too.

I had enjoyed it a lot . He’d been everything I’d dreamed he’d be.

For those perfect minutes in his arms, I hadn’t felt broken or faulty or stupid.

I’d been proud of myself. And life had been good. He’d been having fun and enjoying it too, just as much as I had.

Until the real Makayla showed up, and suddenly I became a lying fraud who’d tricked him.

God, why had I done that?

Why hadn’t I just—I really didn’t understand myself sometimes.

I should’ve been honest and upfront from the beginning.

But he’d put his arms around me and been all happy and flirty, and I—I went with it, wanting to live in that perfect fairy tale moment, where I wasn’t…me.

And I made everything so much worse.

I’d never be a normal person. Mom reminded me of that daily with all her restrictions and worries. Why hadn’t I just listened to her?

Pushing my way to my feet, I went to the kitchen, where I had to check the floor all the way around the island for a dead body.

After the disaster my night had been, it seemed almost a given I would find blood and death in front of the refrigerator.

But there was nothing, which pretty much shocked my system and allowed the pit to drag me deeper into its depths.

I went up to my room, changed out of Hope’s clothes, pulled on some underwear—all the while wondering who was going to find my lost pair in the morning after the party—and I slipped into some pajamas before crawling into bed.

From there, I gathered the pit around me like it was my very own security blanket, snuggling deep into its suffocating layers of depression and self-doubt.

I cried for myself like the loser I was, wishing I could be stronger than this.

Better.

But I wasn’t. So I just had to survive. I had to get some sleep and make it through the night, and then tomorrow…

Tomorrow, everything would be lighter. A fresh start to try again—except I’d still be me, and Parker and Hope would know what I’d done. It was only a matter of time until they shared my identity with Keene. And then the entire world would know how awful I was.

Suddenly, I didn’t want there to be a tomorrow. Tomorrow was too humiliating.

Maybe I could be like Zane and just end it now.

Then I couldn’t make any more mistakes. I couldn’t trick guys like Keene, embarrass people like Parker and Hope, be awful friends with perfect girls like Xander, or worry my parents anymore like the terrible, fucked-up daughter I was. I could end the cycle tonight.

But that was wrong.

Except it felt right.

Hot tears slid down my face as the battle inside me heightened.

I didn’t know what to do, so I simply let the pit suck me in deeper.

And this is what it whispered:

You’re not good enough.

No one cares.

They’re all laughing at you.

Why are you even trying? Really?

You’re embarrassing yourself.

It must be humiliating to be you.

Just shut up and sit down already.

Because you know nothing.

You’re fake.

You’re ugly.

You’re pathetic.

Selfish loser.

Your hair is utterly stupid too.

You have no fashion.

No depth.

No personality.

You’re awkward, socially stunted, and unimpressive.

You never get anything right.

Never say anything right.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

Weak failure.

How do you even hold your head up and keep going?

Just end it now.

The world would be a better place without you.

You’ve never been able to keep a single friend.

No one understands you.

No one gets you.

No one likes you.

You don’t even like you.

Everyone feels sorry for that family who’s stuck with you. They probably don’t like you either. They secretly want to be free from your stupid, weak drama.

Don’t even bother anymore.

Gripping my head, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the flow. But more and more whispers flooded in.

After a while, I started to feel dizzy with guilt. I was tired of the everything-is-about-me, depressing thoughts and being stuck in my own head. I hated being so downtrodden about my own pathetic, insignificant problems when some people actually did have it bad.

I was such a selfish, immature joke.

And I tried to stop it. Just…stop thinking about me altogether. But that didn’t work. And my shoulders shook as I sobbed.

I wished I knew how to be better.

Maybe I really should just end everything.

The buzzing of my phone caused me to pull in a guilty gasp as if I’d been caught.

Certain Mom somehow knew what I’d been considering and was calling to tell me how bad I was—the worst daughter ever—I winced even as I reached for the device.

But it wasn’t her.

It was Xander.

I’m outside. Please let me in.

Wait. What?

I sat up in alarm just as the doorbell rang.