Too late.
The door to the bathroom opens as I scramble up and grab a towel, just in time for the twins to double kick the door to the shower stall open. They gape at us with those big green eyes of theirs.
“What's happening?” Tobias asks, whipping his attention from Spencer, sitting naked on the floor, to me, standing next to the bathtub in nothing but a towel. I can barely see him as I've somehow lost my glasses along the way, but I can sense this hot bite of jealousy. It stings my skin and makes me want to squirm. “We heard Chuck scr—” He cuts himself off as Micah waltzes in, bends down, and picks up my foggy glasses, cleaning them off on his shirt before handing them over.
I slip them on my face in time to see Tobias' tight, guarded expression as he puts the whole scene together. He looks me over then glances down at Spencer.
“You're such a dick face,” he says, and Spencer frowns at him.
“Sorry we made you guys worry.” His frown twitches up slightly into a smile. “I didn't know Charlotte here was a screamer.”
“I'm … I'm … a not!” I yell back, still shaky and boneless from the orgasm.
“You’re ‘a not’? That's a new one.” Micah gives me this sharp once-over, and then meets my eyes with a challenge burning in his. “Real creative, Chuck. Now, get your ass dressed and Tobias and I will walk you back to the headmaster's. Ranger wants to bitch Spencer out.”
“Seriously?” Spencer asks as Tobias bends down and hands me my clothes. Then the twins drag a naked Spencer out of the room and kick the door closed.
But the way they looked at me …
This isn't over yet, is it?The memorial for Eugene is held in the rear gardens on Friday, a place I most definitely never go. Now that I'm like, friends with the Student Council or whatever, it feels like the campus has tripled in size. All the places I avoided before seem open. I'm not as worried about the other students discovering my secret with these guys at my back.
There are candles and tears, flowers and photos. That, and an entire table laden with food. Our Baked Alaska—which, by the way, is a pound cake topped with ice cream and meringue and then, well, baked—sits pretty in the center.
“This is majorly depressing,” Spencer says, smoking a cigarette in the shadows of the trees while my father's back is turned. I’ve been having trouble looking at him all day. Same with the twins. It’s much easier if I just wedge myself between Church and Ranger and pretend like nothing happened last night.
“Imagine if it'd been you,” I say, and he turns to look at me, face covered in shadows but for the orange burn of his lit cigarette. My stomach is in knots, and all I can think about is how I'd be feeling if he were gone, if I never got to see him again.
I've never experienced that sick sense of loss before. I feel like it seriously knocked the shit out of me and my emotions. And then having to worry about this supposed move to Cali? It’s too much.
“This is so goddamn depressing,” Micah whispers, leaning back against a tree, a glass soda bottle in one hand. He lifts it to his lips and I see the distinctive cherry label on the front. The McCarthy twins seem to have a thing for cherries.
“Can we bail?” they ask in unison, turning to look at Ranger instead of Church like they usually do. Probably because it seemed important to him, honoring Eugene and all that.
“There's a college party in the city,” Church suggests, and the guys exchange a look.
My dad steps up to the table and lifts a knife, cutting the baked Alaska and passing out slices to Eugene's melancholy friends.
“We can go,” Ranger says, nodding and exhaling. He has a look of grim satisfaction, like we've done what we needed to do here.
“You should go as a girl,” the twins suggest, hooking their arms together and pointing at me. They both grin. “College party, city kids, no worries about your secret getting out.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, feeling this small light of excitement in all the darkness. I've just pushed aside the issue of California for now; I'm not going back. Dad has to see that I'm better off here. “Let's go back to the house and I'll get changed.”
We sneak through the woods and move down the path, heading toward the curve where one of the benches sits. There's a ring of red candles set up in front of it, and I raise an eyebrow.
“Little far from the memorial, huh?” I ask, and then Ranger pauses, putting out a hand to grab my arm. He holds on with a firm but surprisingly gentle grip, pulling me back a step.
