me an hour ago she was going to look at my book collection, and I hadn’t seen her since, so she’d obviously snuck out.
I didn’t really blame her.
I finally realized that if I stayed in the corner and listened to stories about Kayla all night, I’d be driven loony by midnight. I excused myself from Keith and walked into the living room. But I didn’t know who to talk to. They were all chatting about people I didn’t know or making inside jokes I didn’t get. I wished I could really talk to someone.
Suddenly, all the loud simultaneous conversations ground to a halt and a chorus of whispers rose from the silence. I followed the collective line of sight to the front door, where Donovan stood half in, half out, like he was making the decision to stay or run at the last second. I held my breath, silently chanting: stay, stay, stay .
He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. His eyes made a quick sweep of the room, perhaps thinking back to the way Kayla’s family had their furniture arranged, or maybe remembering moments he spent with Kayla here, cuddled on the couch, laughing …
“Why is he here?”
I looked sharply at Kane, shocked by the intensity of the venom with which he spoke. “I invited him,” I said.
Donovan saw me and I swore his eyes lit up. He wore jeans and a pale blue polo — the only time I’d seen him wear something other than black. And he’d gotten a haircut. His eyes weren’t hidden anymore.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few girls were giving him sly looks over their shoulders, and not in a negative way.
Did he do all this … for me? I wondered.
I was shocked enough that he’d shown up. But he’d freshened his look. He even seemed to be carrying himself differently, not staring down at the floor, but instead looking right at me as he threaded his way through the crowded living room.
I cleared my throat, trying desperately to think of something cool to say, but my mind was racing and my heart was pumping wildly. He’d almost reached me when Kane stepped between us.
“Returning to the scene of the crime?” Kane asked.
Donovan’s face darkened and his fists clenched. My vague worry about a fight at the party had just turned into a real possibility. I pushed myself between them and put my hands on Donovan’s shoulders, forcing him to look into my eyes.
“Go upstairs,” I whispered.
I turned to Kane next, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him into the downstairs bathroom.
“What is wrong with you?” I said, closing the door behind us.
He raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make a scene at your party. That guy … he just gets to me. Why did you even invite him, anyway?”
I faltered. “Are you … jealous? You know tomorrow night isn’t a date.” I wanted to make sure that was very clear.
“No. Just protective. I don’t trust him. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I paused. “You don’t really think he killed Kayla, do you?”
“Only he knows what happened. He was the one who was here that day. And he gave a statement to the police, but never spoke a word of it to anyone else. So what does that tell you?”
“That if he did it, the police would have arrested him.”
“Maybe he did do it, but they couldn’t prove it,” Kane countered.
“Or maybe he didn’t and you guys are torturing him for nothing.” My jaw tightened. I shouldn’t have felt so defensive. I barely knew Donovan. But after our talks, I’d grown to feel protective of him. If other people wanted to torment him over Kayla’s death they could … but not in my house.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Kane stepped closer and put a gentle hand on my arm. “Let’s not let Donovan O’Mara ruin your party.”
I stiffened. “He’s not the one who nearly did.”
I left Kane behind and made a quick loop through the kitchen and living room, looking for Donovan, but he wasn’t there. Hopefully he’d
I didn’t really blame her.
I finally realized that if I stayed in the corner and listened to stories about Kayla all night, I’d be driven loony by midnight. I excused myself from Keith and walked into the living room. But I didn’t know who to talk to. They were all chatting about people I didn’t know or making inside jokes I didn’t get. I wished I could really talk to someone.
Suddenly, all the loud simultaneous conversations ground to a halt and a chorus of whispers rose from the silence. I followed the collective line of sight to the front door, where Donovan stood half in, half out, like he was making the decision to stay or run at the last second. I held my breath, silently chanting: stay, stay, stay .
He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. His eyes made a quick sweep of the room, perhaps thinking back to the way Kayla’s family had their furniture arranged, or maybe remembering moments he spent with Kayla here, cuddled on the couch, laughing …
“Why is he here?”
I looked sharply at Kane, shocked by the intensity of the venom with which he spoke. “I invited him,” I said.
Donovan saw me and I swore his eyes lit up. He wore jeans and a pale blue polo — the only time I’d seen him wear something other than black. And he’d gotten a haircut. His eyes weren’t hidden anymore.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few girls were giving him sly looks over their shoulders, and not in a negative way.
Did he do all this … for me? I wondered.
I was shocked enough that he’d shown up. But he’d freshened his look. He even seemed to be carrying himself differently, not staring down at the floor, but instead looking right at me as he threaded his way through the crowded living room.
I cleared my throat, trying desperately to think of something cool to say, but my mind was racing and my heart was pumping wildly. He’d almost reached me when Kane stepped between us.
“Returning to the scene of the crime?” Kane asked.
Donovan’s face darkened and his fists clenched. My vague worry about a fight at the party had just turned into a real possibility. I pushed myself between them and put my hands on Donovan’s shoulders, forcing him to look into my eyes.
“Go upstairs,” I whispered.
I turned to Kane next, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him into the downstairs bathroom.
“What is wrong with you?” I said, closing the door behind us.
He raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make a scene at your party. That guy … he just gets to me. Why did you even invite him, anyway?”
I faltered. “Are you … jealous? You know tomorrow night isn’t a date.” I wanted to make sure that was very clear.
“No. Just protective. I don’t trust him. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I paused. “You don’t really think he killed Kayla, do you?”
“Only he knows what happened. He was the one who was here that day. And he gave a statement to the police, but never spoke a word of it to anyone else. So what does that tell you?”
“That if he did it, the police would have arrested him.”
“Maybe he did do it, but they couldn’t prove it,” Kane countered.
“Or maybe he didn’t and you guys are torturing him for nothing.” My jaw tightened. I shouldn’t have felt so defensive. I barely knew Donovan. But after our talks, I’d grown to feel protective of him. If other people wanted to torment him over Kayla’s death they could … but not in my house.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Kane stepped closer and put a gentle hand on my arm. “Let’s not let Donovan O’Mara ruin your party.”
I stiffened. “He’s not the one who nearly did.”
I left Kane behind and made a quick loop through the kitchen and living room, looking for Donovan, but he wasn’t there. Hopefully he’d
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