hadn’t had quite enough to pass out—I had a high tolerance after so many years of this shit—but the headache was already coming on. You’d think the silence would have been a relief, but it made my head pound worse. I wanted Nathan to say something. Anything. Even if he was going to yell again, at least I’d know he wasn’t ignoring me.
Anger was less painful than abandonment.
Anger, I could deal with.
I was so tied up in my own thoughts, trying to find a way to break the silence, that I didn’t even realize we were pulling into a parking lot until the car came to a complete stop. I stared out the windshield at the darkened building. The signon the door read FIFTH STREET FILMS— a movie rental shop. But it was closed for the night.
“What are we doing here?” I asked without thinking. Well, at least it wasn’t silent anymore.
“They aren’t asleep yet,” Nathan mumbled.
“What?”
“Mom and Greg aren’t asleep yet.” He cut the engine, letting the headlights fade away. A single lamppost, twenty yards away, was the only light in the area, and it bathed us in a dim orangey glow. “It’s only eleven. Mom is still up watching the news. It’s not safe to sneak in until at least midnight. She thinks we’re bowling, and the lanes close at twelve. So if we wait an hour, the coast should be clear.”
“How do you—?”
“I’ve done this before,” he said. “Remember?”
“Oh, right. I guess I just don’t think about it. My mom would never notice if I came in drunk or something.” I snorted. “And even if she did, she’d say it was Dad’s fault, so I’d be in the clear.”
There was a long pause, then Nathan said, “Um, you should fix your shirt before we go.”
“What?” I looked down at my tank top. “Oh, right. Inside out.”
“Yeah. Kind of a dead giveaway.”
I reached down and pulled the hem of the shirt over my head. Once it was off, I glanced over at Nathan. He was facing the window, a hand clamped over his eyes. Even in the bad lighting, I could tell he was blushing. Christ. I had on a bra, and it wasn’t like it was something he’d never seen before.
I slipped the shirt on the right way and said, “Okay. You can look now.”
“Do you have any sense of modesty?” he asked, turning to face me. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I thought I saw a small smile curling on his lips.
“Not after a few shots of tequila.”
He didn’t laugh as much as I hoped he would. It was really just an awkward half chuckle, but, hey, that was better than nothing.
He glanced into the backseat, and I followed his gaze. Bailey was curled into a ball, her knees pulled up beside her and her hair spread across the leather seat. To anyone else, it might have looked like she was sleeping peacefully, but to me it just didn’t seem right.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should have watched her.”
“Yeah, you should have,” he agreed. After a pause, he added, “I don’t want her going to parties with you anymore, Whitley.”
“Seriously, Nathan, you’re overreacting.”
“No, I’m not. You aren’t the one who found her. You didn’t see…” He took a deep breath, shaking his head slowly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me.”
“Just drop it, Whitley. It’s nothing. But she’s not going to parties with you anymore.” He took a breath and let some of the tension leave his body. “Look, you go to parties to escape—I get it. But if you’re going to be this messed up,that means you can’t look after her, too, so you’re on your own from now on. Okay?”
I sighed, rolling my eyes. I wasn’t that messed up. Not yet. “Yeah. Whatever.” I twisted around to face forward again. According to the clock on the dashboard, it was only 11:21. We still had more than half an hour to sit here, waiting to go back to Dad and Sylvia’s house.
My headache was getting worse again. I leaned my temple against the window, closing my eyes. Since I could remember, I’d
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