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I do," I snapped without thinking. The picture of Cheyenne straddling him on the love seat in the Art Cemetery came screeching back
in full Technicolor, as did the gut-wrenching horror of how it had felt to watch it all unfold. "But I took you back, remember?" Josh's
face screwed up in disgust. "You took me back because it wasn't me there with her. Because she drugged me. Because I didn't know
what I was doing."
He had me there. I was drunk last night, but I had known what I was doing. Had flirted with the idea of doing it for months. How
could something that had seemed so right and harmless less than eighteen hours ago now be such an obvious mistake? Why hadn't I
realized that if I let Dash pull me onto that mattress, if I let him touch me the way he had, that I would be here now--my heart in
pieces, Josh's heart in pieces, wishing there was any way in hell I could take it all back? What could I say? "Josh, I love you," I at-
tempted. "I--" "Don't," he spat. "Of all things, do not say that."
The venom in his voice stopped me cold. That was all it took. All it took for me to realize that this was a lost cause. That Josh was
lost to me. Forever. All I wanted was for him to hug me. To tell me that everything was going to be okay. To be my rock. He had al-
ways been that for me. Whenever I screwed up or everything around me seemed to be falling apart, Josh had made it better. But he
couldn't make this better, because this time my screwup had hurt him. I had deprived myself of my one true comfort in life, and the re-
alization gouged my heart out. "Please, just go," he said, his shoulders slumping. "Just leave me alone."
"Fine." My voice, my eyes, my throat, were filled with tears as I took a step back. Away from him. "Fine, I'll go." And I started to.
I did. But then, out of nowhere, a terrifying thought occurred to me. A thought that somehow, in all the emotional wreckage, had never
even been a glimmer until now. And it stopped me in my tracks. Cold dread overcame me. Josh was so angry. So hurt. What if he... I
couldn't say it. But I had to. I had to beg for mercy. One last favor. For old time's sake? A lump the size of an orange blocked my
windpipe, trying to tell me this was a bad idea. But my fear of what might happen if I didn't speak overcame my conscience. "Josh, I
have to ask you one thing," I said, my voice thick. "What?" He glanced at me.
"You're not... I mean... you're not going to tell Noelle, are you? About me and Dash?" I asked. Josh looked at me for a moment,
then shook his head and laughed. He laughed so bitterly, I'm not even sure the noise he made could be categorized as a laugh. My
heart felt sick. I knew what he thought of me right then and I hated myself. But now that he'd left me, I needed Noelle more than ever.
"No," he said finally, looking at me like I was the crusty scum that formed on the outer rims of his paint jars. "No, I won't tell your
precious Noelle. If that's what you really care about here, then don't worry. Your slutty little secret is safe with me." Tears spilled
down my face. Coming from Josh--from someone who was normally so kind and levelheaded and understanding--the words couldn't
have stung more. But at least I knew he would keep my secret. He was the most decent, honest guy I knew. However awful his word-
ing was, the promise was just as strong. "Josh--" "Good luck saving Billings," he said with a sneer. His silent message? I hope you
fail.
Then he turned his back on me, and I knew it was for good this time. I had to get out of there. Now. I turned and ran for the door,
