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I sat up beside him knowing there was nothing I could say to convince him that his theory was crazy.
“No one believes me. Not my brothers. Not the psychiatrist—which I did see, by the way.”
I pressed my lips together, remembering that I’d told him he should see one. “Does your mother know you think she’s the cause of his death?”
“She knows and denies it. I swear to God, I can’t even look at her without wanting to put my fist through a wall. If she had nothing to do with it, how could she move on so fast?”
I wanted to assure him that these things happened. People became close when they shared a loss. As Mr. Grayson’s business partner, Martine would’ve been grieving the loss of him, too. I kept those thoughts to myself knowing it wasn’t why Seren was confiding in me. He just wanted someone on his side. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, clearly not looking for my sympathy. “I just wanted you to know where my head’s at most days. It’s not on high school shit. It’s like I’m going through the motions and trying to stop myself from flipping the fuck out. You’ve been a welcome distraction.”
I bumped him gently with my shoulder. “Thanks for being honest with me.”
“You’re easy to talk to.”
“Well, I’m here if you need to talk,” I offered.
“I can think of a lot of other things I’d rather be doing with you.”
“And, where would you like to do these other things? The pool house?”
“Nope. The pool house is reserved for people I don’t care about.”
“People who like handcuffs, petroleum jelly, and lingerie?” I probed.
He threw back his head and howled with laughter. I hadn’t meant to be funny.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I totally forgot about that.”
“About what?”
“Did you really believe all those notes?”
“Obviously.”
“Jesus, Grace. I’m in high school. Sure, I’ve slept with girls, but not in the same week. I was trying to piss you off so you’d stay away from me.”
I shook my head, constantly caught off guard by every new bit of information I learned from Seren.
“What?” he asked, his eyes riveting between mine.
“The guy I thought you were and the guy you’re turning out to be aren’t meshing in my brain. It’s hard to sort through the lies to get to the truth.”
He reached over and linked his fingers with mine. “I know I suck.”
“You do…But I’ve also got a confession to make.”
“Go on,” he urged with a spark of intrigue in his eyes.
“My note wasn’t real either.”
His eyes widened. “You didn’t use the safety pin?”
“And risk little versions of you running around? No way.”
He laughed and I couldn’t help but laugh too.
