Just as I’m about to turn around and head back, Lucas stops, tugs the backpack off his shoulders, and drops it at his feet. Sitting on a flat rock, he unzips the bag and pulls out two beers. Did he go on a hike to drink? I move closer to get a better look and find a large boulder to hide behind. Squatting down, I peek around the rock and watch him. I should tell him I’m here. I don’t feel right hiding. Yet something tells me in my gut I might be interrupting a private moment, so I stay hidden.
Lucas twists the bottle top off a beer and holds it up in the air in a toast. His mouth is moving like he’s saying something. But the sound of his voice gets whisked away by the breeze, and I can’t hear him. Then he takes a swig of beer, turns the bottle upside down and pours the liquid onto the ground. Why is he doing that? When it’s empty, he sets it on the ground and picks up the other bottle. Again, he toasts toward the sky. This time hedoesn’t pour the beer out. He sips at it and stares out into the distance with a look of sadness on his face.
Folding his legs up, he rests his wrist on his knee, the bottle dangling from his fingers as he squeezes his eyes shut. A moment later, he swipes at his cheeks and tilts his head back to stare at the sky.
I shouldn’t be here. Lucas is obviously going through something. Something private. I’m the last person he’d want witnessing his sorrow.
After squatting for so long, my legs stiffen and a sharp pain shoots into my thighs. Slowly getting to my feet, my sandal slides out over loose dirt, and I fall. Something sharp pokes into my butt.
“Ouch!” I cry out in pain. Immediately, I cover my mouth and scurry back behind the rock, praying Lucas didn’t hear or see me.
“Penelope. Is that you?”
Crap! Busted.
The crunch of his footsteps on leaves and rubble gets closer. There’s no way I can hide anywhere before he reaches me. I squeeze my eyes shut. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me, right?
“What are you doing?” His voice booms above me.
I open my eyes and glance up. His jaw is tight and his nostrils flare. There’s no doubt by his expression that he’s not happy to see me.
Getting to my feet, I dust dirt off my butt and give a nervous laugh. “I was out for a walk. What are the chances we would end up on the same hiking trail?” I lie.
A frown deepens on his face. “Are you following me?”
“No…I was just…I—”
“Unbelievable.” He throws his hands up in the air. “Not only do I have to share a cabin with you, you’re also following me ona hike after I asked you not to come. Can’t I have a moment to myself?”
“I didn’t want to stay at the cabin alone again. There’s nothing to do.” I don’t even try to keep lying.
“Not my problem.” He pushes his hair back off his forehead. “I keep telling myself I should have left you at that hotel.”
“It was your idea to take me to the cabin. I’m here because of you. It’s not my fault.”
Lucas’ face hardens, and a vein ticks on the side of his cheek. “Not your fault?Everythingis your fucking fault. If it wasn’t for you, Garrett would be—” He slams his lips shut and rakes his fingers through his hair.
What has Garrett got to do with anything? I remember Lucas and Garrett were best friends in high school. Wherever one went, the other followed. There was nothing they didn’t do together. Why is Lucas bringing him up now?
“Garrett would be what?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Forget I said anything.”
“No. You brought Garrett up for a reason. What were you going to say? What does he have to do with me?”
He narrows his eyes and points a finger at me. “It’s your fault Garrett is dead.”
I suck in a shocked breath. “You’re blaming me for his accident?” His accident had been a shock to all who knew him. Death is always hard, but dying so young is incomprehensible. How am I involved with what happened?
With a sneer, he says, “Yeah, I am.”
Why is he saying this? “How is his death my fault? I wasn’t in the car with the two of you. After the humiliation you put me through in senior year, I hardly stepped out of the house, let alone hung out with old high school students. After what you did to me, I had nothing to do with you.”
“After what I did?” Tossing his head back, he gives a mirthless laugh. “I did nothing to you!” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “Youplanted drugs in my locker and tattled to the principal.Yougot me expelled from school. Because of that, I couldn’t get into any of the colleges I applied to.Youdid all that.”
I hang my head with shame and stare at my feet. Yes, I put drugs in his locker. I was so upset and humiliated by what had happened, it was the only way to get back at him. But as much as he hurt me, it was a terrible thing to do. Had I known he would have lost so much, I never would have done it. It doesn’t explain why he’s blaming me for the accident though.
“Lucas, I’m sorry about what I did—”
