“Yeah, you didn’t have to. I knew it would upset you. So I said no.” She crosses her arms and looks out the window. “But you couldn’t do the same for me.”
“I did think of you, I just—” I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again, make myself look at her. How to make her understand? “After my mom left, Fiona was gone all the time, and I had that on-again, off-again make-out thing with Seth that he wouldn’t even, like, acknowledge existed—I just felt like there was something wrong with me. And then there Jeremy was, one of my oldest friends, and he was Jeremy Reagan, and—he wanted me. Like, in public. I did it because—I guess I just wanted to know that someone could love me.”
“I loved you,” she says quietly.
“I know, but—”
“No, Addie, I don’t think you do know. Because if you knew, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You and Jere—you were all I had. I didn’t want to risk losing you, even if it meant I didn’t get to go out with the star quarterback.”
“It wasn’t just because—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupts. “The thing is—I chose us over what I wanted. Because I thought either of you would do the same for me. And then you and him both went ahead and did the exact opposite, leaving me all alone. I didn’t mean what I said about you, or your mom, I really didn’t, I just—I was losing both of my best friends at once and I just snapped.”
“I’m sorry” is all I can think to say.
She looks at me. “Thank you.”
Neither of us speaks for a moment.
“I have to pee,” Gen says. I start to get out of my seat, but she waves me off and climbs out Jeremy’s side instead.
Leaving me alone to think about everything she just said.
When she puts it that way—
Yeah, I can see where I’m the asshole.
If I hadn’t been so desperate for someone to prove to me that I could be loved—maybe I wouldn’t have put that desire ahead of Gen.
Then maybe she would have been here all along.
Maybe they both would have. And it wouldn’t have mattered what I did with Seth last summer; they’d have stuck by me anyway.
Why am I so incapable of seeing what’s right in front of my face?
It always comes back to me. It’s all my fault my fault my fault—
I bang the console of Jeremy’s car. The glove compartment falls open.
I go to close it—then stop.
Something silver is glinting inside. I reach in—
And pull out a gun.
40
I blink.
It’s still there.
It’s a handgun, small and silver, and that’s all I can tell about it. Despite living in an area where a lot of people hunt, I know nothing about guns. My parents never owned one.
And neither, I thought, did Jeremy.
What’s it doing here?
I let go hastily, letting it fall back into the glove compartment, then close it afterward.
Why does Jeremy have a gun in his car?
Why does Jeremy have a gun at all?
“Addie.”
I jump a mile in the air.
Jeremy’s peering at me from the driver’s side. “You okay?”
“Um, yeah, you just scared me.”
“I got you curly fries.” He holds out a greasy paper bag. He knows I love curly fries.
“Oh—thanks.” I take it from him and clutch it tight.
“Where’s Gen?”
“Bathroom.”
