She knows, I think. She so fucking knows.
The exact same thought must cross Tyler’s mind, because he shoots me a panicked look and swallows. I can’t think of a worse time to be confronted about all of this. I’m hungover, I’m sweaty, I’m tired, and I look like I’ve just escaped from rehab. I’m that trashy.
There’s absolutely no chance of me getting out of this. I wonder if it’s too late to run those five hundred thousand miles. Tyler’s nudging me down the stairs, and I can literally feel his unwillingness through his touch. His arms are rigid, fists curled. Somehow, the two of us make it through the patio doors and into the backyard.
“Soooooooo,” Tiffani says.
Tyler furrows his eyebrows. “So…”
“So I woke up to a text from TJ this morning,” she states. She’s glancing between the two of us, so I try to look nonchalant. I try to look like I didn’t just sleep with her boyfriend. “And, you know,” she continues, “I’m getting real sick of other people talking to me about us hooking up, Tyler, because half the fucking time it’s not even me.”
“What are you talking about?” Tyler asks, and both Tiffani and I stare at him. He knows what she’s talking about. He knows exactly.
“Don’t start, Tyler. Just don’t,” she snaps, her voice growing louder. She’s turning vicious, and I know that the chance of us remaining friends after this is pretty slim. “He made a joke about us hooking up last night, because his room was a total mess, and we both know perfectly fine that it wasn’t me.”
“Look,” Tyler starts, taking a step toward her. “Baby, I didn’t hook up with anyone. I just forgot to tidy the place up after—”
“Shut up!” she yells, and he does. I think she’s past the point of putting up with his bullshit. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, breathes in and out, and then turns to me, a smile on her lips. “Eden, didn’t you want your shoes?”
Everything stops. My heart skips a few beats, my limbs stiffen, my blood runs cold. I try to splutter some words out, but they rise in my throat only to disappear. My voice becomes a rasped whisper. “How did you—”
“Because,” she hisses, “TJ asked if I’d had a good night and then said I’d left behind my Converse. Asked me what the words written on them meant.” My heart completely stops beating now. “I sure as hell remember you waving yours around the entire night. The ones with the lyrics on them, right? By the way, you’re not getting those back. I told him I didn’t want them and asked him to toss them in the trash for me.”
“But Tyler’s my—”
“Stepbrother? Yeah, I know.” She’s growing so livid that tears are threatening to fall. Quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she straightens up and adjusts the waistband of her sweats. “I just spent the past half hour arguing with myself. I was like, ‘No way, they’re totally related.’ But I’ve watched Clueless before, okay? You know, when Cher falls for her stepbrother? I’m not stupid.”
This is it. This is what being caught feels like.
And it feels like hell.
Both Tyler and I are at a loss for words. I don’t quite think either of us ever prepared ourselves for what would happen if this ever happened, if the truth was ever uncovered. It feels like Judgment Day. I feel so small, so tiny, standing here in front of Tiffani. I can’t even look at Tyler. I just feel sick, like I could hurl at any second, so I try my hardest to hold it back as the barbecue over by the pool catches my eye.
I wish I could rewind the summer, back to my first night in this city with the neighbors piled into the yard and the barbecue sizzling and Dad cracking lame jokes. I want to do it all over again, but this time around, I don’t want to fall for my stepbrother. This time I don’t want to be in the mess I’m in now.
“You didn’t really hook up with Jake, did you, Eden?” Tiffani really is crying now. Angry tears: the worst kind.
“No,” I whisper.
“It was you that night at the pier,” she says, and I feel like I’m dying inside. Everything is shattering as the guilt consumes me. I refused to ever be a cheater, but that’s exactly who I’ve become. “You’re a liar.”