Page 163 of Someone Like Me
Her chin notches back, and she bats her lashes at me. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You heard me.”
Annie’s gaze is flicking from me to Evie’s sister. She looks pissed but totally lost.
Tori keeps blinking like an imbecile. “You know, I think you’re the one who needs to leave my sister alone,” she says, her tone syrupy sweet. “If you know what’s good for you.”
I step into her space and glower down at her. “You know where I’ve been. You don’t scare me.” I tell her with a slow nod. “You watch yourself with Evie.”
She drops the innocent act like a sack of shit. “Are you threatening me?” She pitches her voice loud enough for my whole family — and anyone else in this line — can hear.
And I don’t fucking care.
But as I’m just about to tell her that, hell, yeah, I’m threatening her, Evie, looking terrified, pops up behind Tori and grabs her by the arm.
“C’mon, Tori. Let’s go home.” Her voice is pure panic, and she doesn’t even look at me as she yanks her sister out of my reach.
And before Tori turns away, that wicked smile I’ve only seen on sociopaths slithers right back onto her face.
“Come after me,” she taunts, her voice low again. “I dare you.”
And this time it’s Annie who restrains me. And it’s a good thing she’s a cheerleader who’s essentially solid muscle or I might knock her down. But I grip my sister’s shoulders to keep her on her feet and watch them go, Evie plowing through the crowd, practically dragging Tori behind her like death itself is after them.
Evie doesn’t even look back.
“That bitch is crazy,” Annie says, sounding out of breath. “No wonder I always hated her.”
Aunt Josie walks over to us, frowning in confusion. “Was that your girlfriend and her sister?”
Annie’s shaking her head before I can answer. “That was a psycho.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Josie’s frame jolts with shock. “What? Of course she is, Andrew. That girl’s crazy about you.”
I look back in time to see Evie disappear behind a cluster of trees, and then I force myself to face my aunt.
“We broke up.”
Annie makes a snarky noise in the back of her throat, and Josie looks like I’ve splashed a drink in her face.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Now’s not the time.”
But Annie chimes in. “She broke up with him the day—”
“Not. The. Time,” I grind out, and the register of my voice must be just enough to check the meddling gene in both women. Annie and Josie share a look before stepping back into our line, but there’s really no point. The last of the crowd is edging away, aiming for their cars. My guess is half of them will be joining us at the house. Them and an army of casseroles.
My bones feel heavy at the thought. The last thing I want to do is stand around talking to more people. And Evie’s note is burning a hole in my pocket. But I’m not going to take it out while I have an audience.
So it isn’t until the limo takes us back to Fountain Memorial Funeral Home and I get into Grandma Q’s Buick that I allow myself to reach for the paper and unfold it. I’ve never seen Evie’s handwriting before, but it’s as though I recognize her anyway. It’s a pretty hand. Not cutesy. Not elegant. But somewhere in between. Her letters curve with feminine grace, but there’s a friendliness to them, too. An inextinguishable happiness. All Evie.
But the words on the page are anything but happy. They’re desperate. Urgent. And as I read them, my heart quickens.
Drew, my love,
Please read this through to the end, and promise me you won’t do anything stupid. None of this is what I want. I love you more than anything, I want to be with you, and I will be with you — if you’ll still have me after all of this.
