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“I wasn’t with her. She called me,” I tell him.
“Why would she call you?”
I contemplate what the right words are to answer his question.
“Because we love each other,” I whisper.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he says quietly.
“We haven't said it to each other, but I love her. I love her so fucking much. I think she feels the same,” I tell him.
“She does. She invited me over yesterday. She was trying to convince me to talk to you. She told me she was worried about you and that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was treating you. She thought there was something else going on that you weren’t telling anyone. I brushed her off and left. She tried texting me this morning and I ignored her. I’m pretty sure she was coming to confront me when the accident happened. I think this is all my fucking fault,” he says, choking up.
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“Why would you say that?” he asks, looking at me confused.
Taking a deep breath, I lean back in the seat.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that Riley’s dad is the one that caused this.”
“Why? He doesn’t even know Marley.”
“I had an arrangement with him. I broke that arrangement. He assured me back when this started that if I ever went against my word then I would pay for it.”
“What the fuck, Clark? What did you do?”
“Remember when my mom and dad got divorced when we were seventeen?”
“Yeah, the whole thing was fucked up.”
“Sorry to just show up like this, but I needed to get out of my house.”
“What’s going on?”
“My parents are at each other’s throats again. My dad was throwing shit, cursing Mom out. He said something about her cheating on him. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.” I sigh, running my hand through my hair.
“Damn. Come on in,” Mitch says, stepping back to let me in.
I glance around the house, but luckily, it looks like everyone’s gone.
“My parents aren’t home. Marley and Mallory are upstairs in one of their bedrooms,” he says, referring to his two younger sisters.
He’s always annoyed that he’s being left with them. We just turned seventeen and they’re eleven. They aren’t quite old enough to be home alone, but they’re pretty mature for their age.
“Do you think your mom really cheated on him?” he asks, walking towards the kitchen, grabbing the both of us a bottle of water.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I am sure he deserved it, if she did, though,” I tell him honestly.
I hate my father. I’ve never been good enough for him, and he’s never been shy about letting me know.
When Mitch goes upstairs to grab his phone, I sit down on the couch, leaning my head back against the cushion.
“Are you okay?” a tiny voice asks.
I lean up, coming face to face with Marley. Of course it’s Marley, she’s always in everyone’s business.
“You’re nosy, you know that?” I tell her.
