Page 91 of No One But Us

“I was going to tell you,” James says as if he’s admitting to a crime, to something he’s ashamed of. I thought I wanted him to admit we were together, but I never pictured it like this.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the people in the world, you had to choose Elle?”

The sense of déjà vu is overwhelming. I see the wait staff, the customers who know me, casting covert looks my way. Suspicious looks, as if I’ve really done something shameful. It’s exactly like the morning I was fired from the internship, except these people should know better. Do they really believe I could have cheated on James with Martin? Of course they do—people are willing to believe anything of you, as long as it’s bad. Even James. Especially if your mother is Kelly Evans.

James and Martin are yelling at each other. Ginny’s continuing to yell at James. None of them notice as I grab my bag and walk out the door.

* * *

I’m nearly done packing by the time I hear James running up the steps. A moment later he stands there, blocking the light from the hallway.

“You’re leaving?” he asks in astonishment.

“Yes,” I spit out, wiping my eyes hastily, but unable to stem the flow of tears.

“Why?” he asks. He actually looks confused, as if he wasn’t just in the restaurant a half hour ago accusing me of cheating on him.

“You believed him,” I reply. “You believed Martin over me. Just like everyone else did.”

“No, I didn’t,” he argues. “I was just…it took me by surprise is all. He showed me the bikini he said you left on his floor! There weren’t a lot of alternative explanations.”

“But once I told you I hadn’t done it, you should have believed me, and you didn’t.”

“Of course I did!” he shouts. “I just wanted to know why. I wanted it to make sense.”

“I. Saw. Your. Face!” I shout back, my words punctuated by sobs. “And there was complete skepticism written all over it! There is always going to be a piece of you that associates me with my mom.”

“That had nothing to do with it,” he insists. “I was just freaked out. I’ve got Ryan telling me you’ll sleep with him by the end of next month, and then Martin has this thing of yours, and… It took my brain a minute to catch up. God, you’re killing me. Stop crying.”

He tries to pull me into him, and I push him off.

“No,” I cry. “You don’t get to be the person who comforts me anymore.”

He pulls me back to him, and this time he doesn’t let me bat him away. “Yes, I do.”

“Let me go!”

“No,” he says. “And you’re not going anywhere. You’re not going to let one little misunderstanding ruin this, because I’m not going to let you.”

I try to knee him, and in one fluid motion he has me thrown over his shoulder like a sack of grain and is carrying me out of the room.

“Put me down, asshole!” I shout, my fists pounding against his back.

“You better not hit me like that on the stairs,” he says calmly, “or you’ll kill us both.”

I ignore him, thrashing and crying and hitting him the entire way. He kicks open his bedroom door and shuts it, throwing me on the bed and falling on top of me before I can even think about scrambling away. He pins me down, his hands at my wrists, his heavy legs holding mine.

“I’m not letting you drive off like this, Elle,” he says.“It’s nighttime, and you’re upset.”

“Get off me.” I push at his chest but it’s like trying to move skyscraper.

“Are you going to stay?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not getting off of you.”

“You can’t hold me like this forever. And what did Martin mean, anyway, when he said there was always some slut leaving here? Have you had other girls here this summer?”