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She turns her wide eyes to me, and I can’t read them. The surprise is still there, but something else is there now. Anger? Did I hit a nerve? Guess right, too quickly?
“You think I did this?”
Penny keeps a distance from us as she slowly circles the room, careful not to draw attention to herself as she moves, and exits so as not to be caught in the crossfire.
Smart.
“Didn’t you?” I take an uneven step toward her, grabbing a fistful of my T-shirt, trying to hold my splitting heart together. I am so shattered. I feel like I’m going to be sick. The betrayal is too deep. How could I not see this side of her before? Isn’t everyone capable of this on some level? I unclench my other fist and let the few crumpled pieces I could find of the band photo fall to the floor between us. “Fuck with my guitar, fine. Screw it’s sentimental value or the fact that it was irreplaceable. Even shred my case. Hell, rip my god-damned heart out for all I care. Who gives a fuck? But tearing up my memories? One of the few remaining connections I had with Andy? That’s too much. Too far. Way too far, Sloane.”
Nearly choking on the words, I don’t know how I’m keeping my shit together right now. I’m trembling so hard it feels like I will fly apart in the slightest breeze.
She gazes down at the scraps on the floor, and again at the guitar and case. The hand that was over her heart now covering her mouth. Tears stream down her cheeks when she glances up.
Taking a step toward me, she shakes her head and whispers, “Cooper, I swear to you, I did not do this.”
“Who else?” I yell, pulling at my hair and choking on my emotions. I can’t think straight. “Who else could do this?”
Her shoulders tighten, and her eyes narrow. “I get that you’re upset, obviously. But you have no right to accuse me of something so horrible. What makes you think I would do something like this to you? Could do this to you? Do you really think that about me?”
I stare at her, trying to find the side of her that I’ve not seen before. The side that could completely destroy someone’s things. Their memories. Their happiness. There’s got to be a side of her coldhearted enough to do that. To do this.
When we first met, I think I saw that part of her. It was plain as fucking day how much she hated me. I should have left her alone. But no, I went ahead and wanted something. I wanted her to be different. I wanted her to care.
About me.
Fucking fool.
It’s too much.
And now, I want to believe her when she says she didn’t do it, but my brain can’t figure out an equation that puts anyone else near my guitar. Opportunity plus motive is everything, and she’s the only one with both. Even though I don’t know exactly what that motive is, it was apparent she had an axe to grind with me this morning.
There are so many words I want to say and emotions I want to let loose, but I swallow them all and leave before I do something stupid like trash the whole building. As I go, I push past Ethan and a few other students, observing the spectacle from the doorway.
Step right up, folks. Get your tickets to the sideshow in classroom 12B.
My entire life is now just a fucking circus. Every bit of it is on display for everyone to watch and judge. I thought I could handle that side of it. I thought I was handling it.
Maybe I’m not.
twenty-four
Burn Down My House
Sloane
I can’t breathe. Air just isn’t making it into my lungs. I’m starting to get dizzy.
Who would do this?
“Sloane, did you hear me? The police are on their way.” Fiona has been trying to get my attention for a while now, but I can’t seem to focus on her. Or anything other than the ravaged guitar still on the floor in front of me. I’m too stunned.
Somebody came into my building and destroyed a musical instrument. And not just any musical instrument. One belonging to someone I care about and know cherished it almost as much as life itself. That’s what an instrument means to a musician. It’s more than just a tool. It’s an extension of the person, a way to communicate, to express themselves.
It’s sacred. It’s everything.
And someone desecrated that.
A wave of nausea rolls over me, but I stuff it down. I need to pull myself together. This is not the time to fall apart. No, now is when I need to kick some ass.
