I started to back away, not wanting any sort of confrontation, but found that I was boxed in by swaying dancers.

“All alone tonight, huh?” Evan shouted, the light flickering in his soulless eyes. His hand was wrapped around his girlfriend’s wrist like an iron snare.

“What?” I asked, realizing I was saying that a lot this evening. I felt the prickling of instinct telling me to run. Evan gave off the aura of someone who delighted in hurting others. And for some reason, since day one, he had taken a particular dislike to me.

Evan let go of April and leaned in close. I tried to back away, but was again met by a wall of bodies. “Your boyfriend, Maxx. Where is he? I haven’t seen him around for a while, and I have some business to take care of with him.” I blinked in shock. Did everyone have freaking business with Maxx? He sure did get around.

And then I realized exactly what Evan was asking me.

Shit.

He knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I denied, shouting over the music. Evan bent his head until his lips were right next to my ear, and I shuddered in revulsion.

“I knew you were nothing but a slut. You should have thought about who you were spreading those pretty legs for. A lot of bad shit can happen if you’re not careful. But you’ve already figured that out, haven’t you? People just aren’t very understanding when it comes to certain relationships.”

I reared back as if Evan had hit me. He watched me with a sadistic joy, licking his lips and leering at me.

April had disappeared into the crowd, and I felt as though I was alone with Evan, even though we were surrounded.

Realization dawned on me. And I knew exactly who had told Kristie about Maxx and me. And it wasn’t Brooks. I had been wrong about that one.

“Watch your back, bitch. I’ve got your number.” Evan hurled his words like a weapon, every syllable a clear and undeniable threat.

Using my elbows, I pushed my way through the crowd even harder. Without slowing down, I ran all the way back to my car, not sure I had gotten the closure I was looking for.

chapter

six

aubrey

i had always been a dedicated student. I was the weirdo who enjoyed writing research papers and staying up until four in the morning cramming for an exam. But my passion, my enthusiasm, for counseling, my chosen career path, had waned.

Knowing that the people who had championed you were questioning your dedication and abilities had a way of shaking you up. I sat in Dr. Lowell’s office one weekday afternoon, waiting for her to finish with her class so we could have our first one-on-one meeting since I had received my official reprimand.

I was dreading it.

I looked around her familiar space, noting how different my feelings were about being here than they used to be. I still felt nothing but respect for my adviser, but there was an awkward tension that had never been there before. Nothing like ruining someone’s perception of you to fuck up a relationship.

I fixed the wide cuff bracelet on my wrist, fingering the engraved silver. The small infinity symbols were rough on my skin, and I wondered what had possessed me to wear that particular piece of jewelry this morning.

I remembered how excited Jayme had been to give it to me for my sixteenth birthday. She had been working all summer at the local frozen custard stand to save up for this present. We had been at the mall almost six months before, and I had seen the cuff bracelet in the window of a small shop. I had loved it, but when I saw the price tag, I knew there was no way I could afford it.

So Jayme, who was only fourteen, had taken it upon herself to make sure I had it. That was the way we had been together. We would have gone to the ends of the earth for each other. We never fought. We were best friends. Which is why it had hurt so much when all of that had changed.

Because eventually, and rather suddenly, our relationship had soured and she had stopped caring what I thought about anything. Strangely, over the last month, it had become easier to remember the good times with Jayme rather than wallowing in the bad memories. I still felt her loss as acutely as ever—that was the sort of pain that never really went away. But somehow, I had started to readjust my mind to allow for more room to focus on the happy memories. After everything with Maxx, I realized that concentrating only on the negative would slowly destroy me. I had experienced more than enough destruction for one lifetime. I needed to reacquaint myself with the better parts of my past.

I smiled as I thought about the way Jayme’s eyes sparkled as I unwrapped the gift. If I concentrated hard enough, I could still hear her laugh when I tried it on and did a dorky little dance in my excitement.

My mom had taken our picture as we hugged, and then my dad had called us into the kitchen to eat some cake. Mom had ordered my favorite, chocolate buttercream with raspberry filling.

Mom had framed that picture and given it to me a few weeks later. I had left it behind when I had gone to Longwood, thinking rather idiotically that by leaving it at home I could escape the memories.

Now I wished I had brought it with me. I had purposefully not taken any pictures of family when I had left. Remembering it now, I knew I had been incredibly shortsighted. I realized what I wanted, more than anything, was to look at my sister’s face again and to remember her for the way she was before the drugs. Before Blake.

Before having to identify her body on that cold morgue table.

That birthday had been significant in so many ways. It was the last one I remembered where my family was happy together. That September when school started, Jayme met Blake, and nothing would ever be the same again. I hadn’t picked up on the subtle changes in Jayme’s personality that now, looking back, I could see so clearly. Hindsight and all that. But for that moment, things had been perfect. And it was that moment I was content to focus on now.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Dr. Lowell’s voice took me out of my memories and threw me solidly back into the present.

I sat up a little straighter in my chair and smoothed my skirt nervously before tucking my hair behind my ears.

“No. Not long,” I said, lying. I had been there for over twenty minutes already. But no sense in pointing that out.

Dr. Lowell acknowledged my answer with a nod. She made herself a cup of coffee, and I noted how she didn’t offer me one. This one tiny omission hit me hard. It epitomized everything that had changed between Dr. Lowell and me. She walked around her desk and sat down in her chair, reaching for a manila file that sat on top of a stack of papers.

There was no polite exchange of pleasantries. No easy chitchat or questions about my week. Only cold silence and grim anticipation. I picked at the skin around my fingernails anxiously, unable to curb the obsessive tic. Habits were hard to break. I knew that only too well.

After a few minutes, Dr. Lowell looked up from the folder and pushed up the glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She smiled. A tight caricature of what I was used to from her.

“How are you?” she asked gruffly.

I blinked a few times, wondering how honest I should be with the woman who had been my mentor. Dr. Lowell crossed her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “You look as though you haven’t been sleeping,” she observed.

I cleared my throat and twirled the bracelet on my wrist as though it were a talisman of some sort. And strangely, it did help calm my twisting stomach.

“I haven’t been, really,” I admitted, having a difficult time making eye contact.