When I hung up the phone, Miles was scowling at me. “You’recallingher now?”
“Texting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so—”
“So maybe you should leave her alone. Give her space.”
“I can’t. I still need her letter.”
He shook his head. “Let the letters go, Lee.”
“What? No. Why would I do that?” I asked. “You keep saying stuff like this. What’s your problem with the letters, anyway?”
“Nothing,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
Rage bubbled up inside of me. It was irrational, I know, but I was suddenly so furious with him. I was angry that he didn’t understand why these letters mattered. Angry that he’d let me get so close to him when he’d promised we’d just be coming to prom as friends. Angry that every time I pulled away from him, the world felt a little colder.
“Stop doing that!” I yelled, because I just wanted to yell at him. “Stop being all cryptic and vague about why I should let this go. Why? What is your problem?”
“Drop it, Lee,” he said. “Let’s just go back inside.”
“No,” I snapped. “Why won’t you write a letter?”
“Lee.”
“Why won’t you do it?”
“I’m going back in.”
I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you.”
He shook me off and took a step back, his eyes flashing dark. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked, his voice raised. “You’re the one who is obsessed with these stupid letters!”
“Because they’re important!”
“To who?”
“To everyone,” I said. “The truth is important to everyone.”
“No, it’s important toyou,” he said, pointing a finger at my chest. His voice was so loud, so harsh, that I flinched away in surprise. “This isn’t about the truth, Lee. It’s aboutyou.You and your guilt.”
“I’m trying to make things better.”
“Kellie doesn’t want to talk to you!”
“She will once she understands what I’m doing.”
“Not everyone wants to talk about it, Lee.” He was shouting at me. He’d never shouted at me before. And even though I didn’t feel threatened by him, it was still unsettling. “Maybe you and Denny and Ashley and Eden have stories you think the world should hear, but not all of us do. The truth isn’t going to set all of us free. People don’t want to hear my truth. Especially not you.”
“Miles … What are you talking about?” I asked. He was pacing now, his hands in his curly hair. I just stood there, staring. “I know what happened to you already. I know about the awful things those reporters wrote about you. How people misunderstood you. And you were the bravest of all of us that day. Why would you have a problem writing about that?”
“Because I’m—”
He was cut off by the exit door opening again. A couple of girls, dressed in purple and blue, came stumbling out, their arms intertwined. They looked between us, then began whispering to each other, giggling behind their hands, as they moved toward a nearby car.
When they were gone, I turned to look at Miles again. He was staring at his feet, hands shoved back into his pockets.
“Miles …”
“I’m gonna go.”
