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She couldn’t talk to Kayla right now. Kayla would know something was wrong and come racing over. And not only did Paige not want Kayla losing her affection for Paul, but she didn’t want to go through the confrontation over what she’d just learned. And she knew the next time she saw her friend, she’d have to confront her. Otherwise, she’d never be able to forgive her.
When the phone stopped ringing and dinged, telling her the caller had left a message, Paige finally cried.
She wanted to go back to Granton, the only place she really felt like herself. But the dorms wouldn’t open again until after the new year. She’d have to wait at least ten more days before she could leave.
For some reason, she thought about Logan Xander, wondering what he did by himself on holidays without his family. Did he feel as alone right now as she did? At least his father hadn’t physically struck him.
Her brain wandered to the night before. She’d hugged him, actually wrapped her arms around him and felt safe and content in his warm, solid embrace.
The way he’d whispered “thank you” into her ear haunted her as much as it invigorated. Despite how horribly wrong her attempt to reconnect with her father had gone, at least she’d been able to reach Logan and give him a certain peace of mind.
But what would Trace think about all this warmth she was feeling for his arch-enemy? For the guy who’d kissed Kayla?
God, she couldn’t think. She just wanted to stop thinking forever. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to fall asleep, where she didn’t dream at all.
A splitting headache woke her from her midmorning nap. Finding the courage to face a mirror, she stumbled into the bathroom and checked the damage. The paper towel she’d pressed to the cut while she’d fallen asleep had dried to her skin. Dampening a washcloth, she dabbed the area until she was able to peel the tissue away.
Thankfully, the cut wasn’t all that deep; it had just bled a lot. Only a thin slice marred her skin. Well, a thin slice along with a healthy, bright red bruise and puffy cheek.
She cleaned it as best as she could, sucking in a sharp breath whenever she tried to scrub away the dried blood. Her entire body throbbed by the time she finished. After taking two capsules of painkillers, she returned to the kitchen to find her scrambled eggs gone and the pan she’d cooked them in washed and put away. Her father was nowhere on the property.
Realizing how truly sorry he must’ve been to actually clean up her mess, she sat at the table and cried some more, wondering how in God’s name she was going to make it through another ten days like this.
She couldn’t go to Kayla without stirring up a huge fight she wasn’t ready to have. She couldn’t call Tess or Bailey because they knew nothing about her home life and she wanted to keep it that way. She couldn’t call home, since she was home.
She couldn’t turn to anyone.
So she just kept on and suffered through. Her father stayed scarce for the most part, staying out of her way. She only saw traces of his comings and goings and heard him walking through the house late at night when she was in her room, trying to sleep.
When Kayla called the day after Christmas, Paige finally answered and made up some lie about how she and her dad had gone for a drive around the county, talking about old times. Kayla had oohed and ahhed as if it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Then she’d invited Paige to come with her to meet her boyfriend.
It seemed so easy to act as if she didn’t know anything about Kayla’s involvement in Trace’s death, so Paige pretended ignorance. Confronting her didn’t seem so important anymore. She said nothing about it and came up with a convincing lie for her cut cheek. When she met with Kayla to meet Archer, she said she’d tripped over a laundry basket in the dark when she’d been going to the bathroom one night.
Kayla had no reason to suspect a lie, so she rolled her eyes and threw an arm around Paige’s shoulder. “You can be the most graceful person I know sometimes. But put a laundry basket in your path at night, and you’re a total klutz, sweetie.”
Paige forced a laugh and bumped her hip against Kayla’s. “Yeah, you gotta watch out for those night-stalking laundry baskets. Now where’s this guy I’m supposed to meet?”
As the two girls neared the front entrance of the restaurant where they had agreed to hook up with Kayla’s boyfriend, the door opened to reveal a short, stocky blond with a goatee.
Face lighting with pleasure, Kayla pointed. “He’s right there.”
Archer Bloom was nothing at all like Trace. He was laid-back and calm with a polite, almost dry attitude. But he knew how to make her best friend glow.
Paige studied them snuggled together in the booth across from her and tried to feel happy for Kayla. But the pangs of bitter blame kept lapping at her ankles and occasionally she wanted to snarl and demand that her best friend never get over her brother, not after what she’d done to him. Not after whom she’d kissed.
Heat boiled into her belly as she tried to picture Logan and Kayla kissing. A part of her knew she wasn’t feeling indignant on Trace’s behalf. She was straight-up jealous. Kayla knew what those amazing lips felt like. And Paige never would.
That was in no way fair.
Closing her eyes, she shoved the blame, and anger, and jealousy back down deep inside her and tried to act as
if nothing was wrong. Thank goodness Kayla was so wrapped up in her boyfriend she didn’t notice, because Paige knew she wouldn’t be able to come up with a good lie about what was wrong if Kayla had noticed.
Again, she survived.
The days passed until New Year’s Eve. The approaching first anniversary of her mother’s death wasn’t any easier to deal with than the first anniversary of Trace’s death. But when Kayla invited Paige to spend New Year’s Eve together, Paige almost felt sick from the déjà vu. She agreed, though, because it was a good—okay, her only—reason to get out of the house for a while.
The party was awful, thrown by a bunch of Trace’s old friends. The people who didn’t shy away from her tried to give her their best regards as if he’d just died yesterday. Kayla seemed too busy with Archer to notice Paige’s discomfort, so Paige took off about an hour before the ball dropped.
