And I’d just said the same thing in front of everyone.
Mom hadn’t been the one to ask for my help—I’d stepped up, stepped in, and here I was, throwing it back in her face. Heat crawled up my neck. I wished, suddenly and violently, that I could take every word back, that I could erase the last fiveminutes entirely.
But I couldn’t. Mom’s face had gone stricken in a way that made something deep inside me twist painfully. Junie’s sniffling still filled the kitchen, Theo’s soft cries bleeding in from the other room, and every awful sound seemed tied to me somehow.
I pressed my lips together hard against the burn in my throat and turned away from the table. No one called after me as I hurried out of the kitchen, avoiding Penn’s eyes entirely and pretending not to notice Ivy shrinking back to make room for me to pass.
I just kept failing at every possible turn.
CHAPTER 20
Last month, Nellie had left her house without her phone after having an argument with her dad. Back then, Jamie and I had been worried—we both knew how much pressure she put on herself, and were afraid of her snapping—but I understood her a bit more now. When confronted with my failure, I wanted to run away, too.
So that’s what I did. But I at least brought my phone with me.
Except it died, the battery drained from Theo playing his game. Ugh.
I walked along the cracked sidewalks, relieved I’d at least been wearing good sneakers, but furious with myself for not having thought to grab sunscreen. I could feel the skin on my shoulders tightening under the sun, freckles burning.
Idiot, I thought bitterly.Check that box for another way you’ve been dropping the ball.
And furious for another reason, because I wasn’t supposed to be walking this long, anyway. I kept my eyes on the road, but it took forever for the black car I knew to find me. Five minutes passed into ten, and then ten turned into twenty, and I could feel my irritation mount with every bead of sweat that slipped down my spine.
Idiot, I thought bitterly, but this time, not at myself.
And then—finally. A black car took a left ahead of me, slowing down along the sidewalk as it approached. The passenger’s window rolled down. “There she is,” Dalton greeted with a warm smile, lowering his sunglasses. “Looking like a tomato in the sun.”
“Where the heck have you been?” I demanded, reaching for his door handle. “I texted you, like, a half hour ago.”
“In my defense, I thought you’d be walkingtowardtown, not away from it.” Dalton still hadn’t lost his cheerful little attitude despite the tone I’d greeted him with. Probably because he was over the moon that I’d texted in the first place. “You should’ve told me you were going south on Hawthorne.”
“Oh, gee, sorry I’m not a better Google Maps.”
“I forgive you.”
I buckled myself into the seat and angled the air vent on me, feeling the AC dry the sweat on my skin.
Dalton didn’t immediately pull away from the curb, instead tapping his fingers along the steering wheel. “So, not to look a gift horse in the mouth—or whatever that whacko statement is,” he began, looking at me closely, “butwhydid you call me to pick you up?”
“No questions.”
“Why didn’t you call Jamie?”
My mind immediately went back to the drawing I’d been working on, the one that’d dissolved into pulp. “I said no questions.”
“Did you have a fight?” Something sparkled in Dalton’s eyes. “Because I?—”
“If you’re going to keep asking questions, I’m going to get out of the car.”
Dalton pressed the lock button, and the button on my door flipped. “No questions,” he said, nudging his sunglasses back up his nose and reaching for the gearshift. “It doesn’t really matter anyway. I don’t care why you want to spend time with me, just that you do.”
I folded my arms across my chest, wanting to argue with him on that particular point, but he was right. Ihadreached out to him. Willingly. But not for the reason I knew he was hoping for.
Dalton pulled away from the curb, propping his elbow on the door. “I can’t ask you questions,” he went on. “But how am I supposed to know if you want ice cream? Wait, crap, that was a question. Strike it from the record, DD.”
I couldn’t help it—I snorted. “It’s a rhetorical question, anyway. You know the answer to it.”
Dalton’s lips stretched into a grin as he pulled into a driveway to turn around, now heading south on Hawthorne. When we drove past my house, Dalton didn’t even glance over. He didn’t check to see if Mom’s car was home, and he didn’t ask me about the kids. He just drove, his smile still on his lips.
