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My head tilts when the words he said to West in the locker room last week haunt me. “You told West that you knew that I’d been lying about my panic attacks. ”
Ethan dips his head, as if he’s counting the floor tiles. “I know you better than anyone else. At least I thought I did. I know when you’re in pain. I know when you hurt. ”
Neither one of us say anything as we pass a group of seniors cutting up. Both of us scan the crowd for West. In the middle, dark blue eyes that mirror mine peer at me. West’s smile falters, but he’s quick to hide the concern. My chest hurts. Both of them love me.
“If the two of you suspected, then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because. . . ” He takes a deep breath. “Because we’re selfish assholes who wanted Mom for a few seconds. She was always so obsessed with you and your attacks that we got nothing. When you claimed to be better, she was still up your butt, but at least we got something. ”
“I never asked for this,” I say as we go down the stairs. “Any of it. For the panic attacks. To be Colleen’s replacement. ”
“I know,” he says. “And to be honest, that’s why West and I pity you instead of hate you. ”
How on earth has my family become so dysfunctional? We walk outside, and Ethan places a hand on my shoulder to stop me. My stomach cramps as if I’ve been sucker punched when he immediately removes his arm. We’re so distant we can’t even touch.
“Talk to us—me and West. Tell us the whole truth about the attacks. We’ll find a way to make everything work between you and Mom and the speeches. And dump the punk. It’s not like you’re going to see him anyway. I won’t cover you anymore, and if I don’t cover you, Mom will start asking questions about where you’re going. There’s no way you’ll be able to think of a good enough excuse as to why you suddenly have a life. ”
Ethan is right, and I start to wonder how I’ll make it to the dragway without his help. If I tell Ethan the truth about Eric, he’ll go ballistic and he’ll possibly snitch on me to my parents. Movement near where I parked my car causes me to shift so I can look past my brother.
Holy hell. I brush past Ethan and try to think of something coherent to say other than, “What are you doing here, Abby?”
In a white button-down shirt remarkably like mine, and a blue-and-green plaid uniform skirt, Abby leans against my car. “Do you like it? Isaiah and I skipped this afternoon and went to Goodwill. Don’t you think it’s ironic that Goodwill has clothes for a private school? If you have money to go to a private school, you probably wouldn’t shop at Goodwill. ”
My mouth pops open with a million questions, but before I can ask any of them, Ethan appears by my side. “Who are you?”
“Abby,” she says. “And you are?”
“Ethan,” I answer. “He’s my twin. ”
Her eyes dart between us. “You don’t look anything alike. ”
“I’m a boy. She’s a girl. I sure as hell hope we don’t,” says Ethan.
Abby flashes a daring smile. “I like you. ”
Ethan ignores her statement. “How do you know Rachel?”
“We’re friends,” she answers. “I go to that other rich school. ”
My eyes widen as I understand. Blue-and-green uniform. Abby’s faking that she belongs in my world by pretending she goes to a school that is acceptable to my family. “Mason Academy. ”
“Yeah,” she says. “That one. I’m new to town and met Rachel at the mall. ”
I clear my throat as Ethan automatically doesn’t buy anything that involves me and malls.
“Parking lot,” adds Abby. “Mall parking lot. I had a flat. She helped. It was all serendipitous. I like bunnies. She likes bunnies. We totally clicked. ”
Ethan’s eyebrows furrow together as he assesses me. “You like bunnies?”
“My brother dropped me off,” Abby continues, “because our school gets out before your school and you promised we could do girl stuff at your house. ”
“Abby,” I interrupt before she says anything else. “Let’s go. ”
“I’ll meet you at home, Rach. ” Ethan continues to eye Abby.
With Ethan safely in his car behind us and Abby in the passenger side, I let the questions flow. “What are you doing? How did you get here? What is going on?”
“Did you snort crack? Don’t answer. Isaiah said you lost your way out of the house past curfew. We bought these clothes, he dropped me off here, and ta-da. . . I’m your new best friend—private school–going, new in town, rich Abby. ”
