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While I make no apologies for all the other shit I’ve pulled in my life, I do take responsibility for this. For making her do what she did, and consequently ruining her life.
If I hadn’t been so angry at myself for what I’d done, so much so that I took it out on her, she wouldn’t have done what she did. If I hadn’t said all those cruel things to her, she wouldn’t have committed a fucking felony.
When I found out that she had though, and that she’d been arrested for it, I went to my dad. To confess. To tell him that it was me who’d provoked her and that he should let her go and punish me instead, which he did by disowning me.
Something he probably would’ve done one day anyway, but I guess he had the opportunity then and he took it. But while I thought that would satisfy him and save her, it didn’t. He still sent her to that reform school.
So yeah, it was me.
I was the problem, not her.
The only good thing is that she’s out of that place. She must’ve graduated by now. She must be back where she always belonged, with her parents, at the manor.
Before I fucked it all up for her.
So protecting her from the new Lucas is the least I could do.
Exhaling an angry breath, I focus on my brother. “I don’t want your fucking money, all right? Don’t come back here anymore.”
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Tonight, I’m a criminal.
And it’s not only because I go to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers but also because I’m stalking.
For real.
There’s no two ways about it. No gray area.
And yes, there’s tons of hiding and crouching and sneaking around involved.
First, to get out of St. Mary’s.
It’s the middle of the night and way past the 9:30 curfew. Which means I should be in bed, fast asleep, but I’m tiptoeing down the concrete hallway of my dorm so I can sneak out of the building and go off campus: to a house in Bardstown.
Where a party is being thrown in my ex-boyfriend’s honor. And while I’m against all forms of stalking and still afraid of any dire consequences for me, I’m going there for a second chance to do what I couldn’t two days ago.
This time though, I don’t have my friends with me.
I didn’t want to involve them and potentially get them in trouble when I knew I was going to be breaking curfew. Plus they still don’t know the whole story. And until I come clean to them, I can’t in good conscience keep accepting their help and support.
So I’m on my own and about an hour later, I reach my destination.
Even if I didn’t know that this is where the party is happening, I’d still figure it out. It’s the only house on this quiet street that’s making that much noise, and taking a deep breath, I head inside.
My plan is to find Lucas and not let anything — anythingat all— deter me.
I search for him in the crowded foyer, in the living room, dining room and all the other rooms that I can find among the throngs and throngs of bodies. When I can’t find him though, I head to the back yard and oh my God, there he is.
And for a second or two, I simply stand in my spot and stare at him.
At my boyfriend —ex-boyfriend.
He stands in a group, holding a red cup in his hand, smiling at something someone is saying, and he looks so handsome. So familiar.
His blond hair and blue eyes.
God, I miss him.
