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“I’m ashamed,” I tell him quietly.
“Ally…”
“I’m really embarrassed that you had to see this and do this.”
Devon shakes his head and finishes with the tape, then hands me my sweatshirt. I glance toward the door, then remove my soiled bra and throw it in the trash before pulling the sweatshirt over my head. He places his hands on my cheeks.
“Is this my fault?” he asks.
“No,”I emphasize. “No, it’s not your fault. I just…”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” he says. “But…you can’t steal and you can’t sell nudes to old pervs and you can’t dothisto yourself. I mean…it looks really bad, Ally. Those cuts are deep. That scares me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You can’t do this again. And I’ll know; I’ll check you.”
“I don’t want to do it again, Devon. Iwantto stop. I want there to be a time in my life when I can move on and forget about this part. I won’t be able to forget if every time I look in the mirror, I see it staring back at me, carved in scars.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I lock mine around his waist and breathe him in—cedar and sandalwood and a hint of fabric softener—and try to focus on the fact that I have someone who actually cares instead of the overwhelming shame.
“What happened to your back?” he asks. “Did Grace do that?”
I nod.
“This is going to get better, okay? We’ll figure it out. I’m already figuring it out, so don’t worry.”
“The bell is going to ring soon,” I tell him. “We shouldgo.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’ll text you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And you text me tonight and tell me when I can come and get you, and I’ll be there. I know where we can go—somewhere you can feel normal, and no one will know you.”
“Really? Where?”
“A party. One of my friends who lives in my mom’s neighborhood is having one. It’s about a twenty-five-minute drive from here. No one from our school will be there.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“Allyson, I love you,” he says before kissing me on the lips. “Pleasebe good.”
“I will. I promise.”
He laces his fingers through mine, and we leave the bathroom, walking together only for a few seconds before we hear the bell. Then, I let go and turn the other way.
And go back to pretending for the rest of the day.
I’ve been watching this fucker for a week now, waiting for the right time.
Parks lives in an apartment in Downtown Black Rock. It’s in a newer, trendy building with beach access and a pool. And a lot of younger residents.
I guess that last part shouldn’t come as a surprise.
He doesn’t leave much—not from what I’ve seen. He doesn’t go to bars at night and doesn’t seem to have any friends or family. There are no pictures in his classroom of anyone but himself.
I guess that part is kind of sad, but not enough to make me feel bad.
