“Hi,” he says. “Should we maybe talk outside?”
When I don’t answer, he leads the way. Once we’re outside the front door, he pushes his hand through his hair.
“I shouldn’t have ... Friday night was ... I’m an idiot,” he says with a sigh. “I agreed to go to the lake because I thought I was ready. I thought I could do it—be back there again. But then, the closer it got to the time, I started freaking out and I ended up getting wasted.
“Anyway,” he says now. “All that stuff I said ... I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t lie to me,” I say.
“Lie to you?” He sounds confused.
“You’re not sorry. Those are things you’ve been wanting to say for nearly a year. Friday was the first day you were honest enough to say them.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is, Luke. I saw the way you looked at me at the funeral. I saw the way you looked at me when you first came back this summer.”
“How do I look at you now?”
“Now?”
“Now,” he says, taking a step toward me, and it’s true. All the disgust from the start of the summer is gone. The Luke in front of me looks solemn and desperate. But why would he be anything but angry at me after everything I’ve done?
“At first it hurt to be near you, to even look at you,” he admits. “But the last few weeks ... I’ve been happier than I’ve been since Ro. I’ve been remembering all the good stuff, the happy stuff.”
“So everything is just fine now?” I hiss, because I know it can’t be true, and I want Luke to be honest with me, to be honest with himself.
“No, everything isn’tfine,Jessi,” he says, “but how do you explain the way it’s felt to be us again?”
Us.
How do I explain the way it’s felt to be us again?
The word makes my stomach flip, but all I do is shrug. “Maybe I get you off or something, so it makes it harder for you to be angry,” I say.
“Youget me off?” he repeats. “That’s how you think I see you?”
“I killed your brother, Luke.”
“You didn’t kill ...” He shakes his head, unable to look at me.
“I’m the reason he’s dead,” I say, and it’s the first time I’ve been honest enough to say those words to anyone but myself. “I’m the reason you drove off, the reason he followed you, the reason he didn’t have his phone. It’sme,Luke. I did all this.”
My voice breaks, and tears spill down my face.
He doesn’t say anything. He can’t even deny it.
“You didn’t mean ...” he begins, but I don’t want to hear it.
“Tell me you haven’t thought exactly that for the last nine months. Tell me you didn’t—don’t—hate me.”
“I ...” He can’t get the words out.
“I’m not stupid, Luke. Maybe I don’t share your genius IQ, but I’m not a fool. I know what you think of me. I know part of you bringing me back to Mel was so you could hurt me. Youwantme to watch her die. You think I deserve to, after everything I’ve done.”
Luke just looks at me.
“Deny it,” I say.
