It was a reasonable question, but she still hated that Susan had a reason to ask it.
“I’ve been with Walker. Mostly.” She rubbed a hand over her aching eyes. “We got separated for a little bit while we were looking for something. I ended up at Jeremy’s. And yeah, he told me he liked me. And yeah, he kissed me. But he also ripped my shirt trying to force me into that kiss.”
“I . . . oh.” Susan sucked in a long breath. “But wait, I still don’t get why you were there in the first place.”
“I really, really want to tell you,” Keira said. “But it’s complicated. Listen, this is serious. I’m in trouble. Can I come over when you get home from school and borrow some clothes?” She thought about Walker buying her shoes . . . she’d still need those. Susan wore a six and a half.
“Don’t tell me you’re running away. Not because of a few lying texts and our school’s lame gossip obsession.” Susan sounded horrified.
“No, it’s not like that,” Keira insisted. “So, can I come over? Please? I need your help. I need you to trust me. Please.”
“Of course,” Susan sighed. “I’ll help you. But I want to know what’s going on. If there’s an explanation for all this, you know I’m behind you a hundred percent, but everything’s weird, Keira. I’m not okay with that.”
“I know. I understand, I really do.” Keira leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the car window. Susan was going to help her. It was a start.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you later.”
The phone went dead in Keira’s hand.
Susan wasn’t okay with things being weird. So how the hell was Keira supposed to tell her about Darkside? Everything about Keira’s life was weird now. Everything. And she couldn’t see any way that things would ever be normal again. She sat in the car, her chest tight, trying very, very hard not to cry.
Chapter Forty-One
WALKER PULLED UP IN front of Susan’s house.
“I can buy you some clothes,” he said. Again. “Your pride is awesome and all, but in a life-and-death situation, it really doesn’t matter.”
Keira shook her head. He didn’t get it.
“It’s more than that. I can’t abandon Susan. First of all, I already asked her to lie for me about where I’ve been staying. And secondly”—she stared up at Susan’s bedroom window—“she’s my best friend. I trust her. I’m not going to walk away from her. She deserves an explanation, and not just ‘I have a new boyfriend and some stuff’s going on and I can’t tell you anything else about it.’ I don’t know if she can deal with the truth, but I have to try to tell her. It’s the only way I can live with myself.”
She looked over at Walker.
Walker ran his hands over the sides of his jeans again and again. If she hadn’t been able to see that his eyes were dry, Keira would’ve sworn he was about to cry.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded. Not a single thing she’d said should have made him look so distraught.
“You called me your boyfriend.” He sounded horrified.
Keira felt stung. Her skin throbbed with it. After everything they’d been through—he didn’t want to be her boyfriend? Was he really so used to this bizarre life that their relationship didn’t mean anything to him?
Feeling painfully uncertain, Keira unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door.
“After last night?” She could feel herself blushing. “If you’re not my boyfriend, then fine, whatever. I was just illustrating a point.” Keira angrily swung open the door, but before she could step out of the car, Walker caught her wrist.
Time itself seemed to slow. Her indrawn breath lasted for a tiny eternity.
“Keira, stop. I don’t think I am your boyfriend,” Walker said.
The world dropped out from under Keira. She hung there, waiting for the fall. “You . . . ” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
“After everything we’ve been through, the way I feel when I look at you, when I think about losing you—” Walker shook his head. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t know that there’s even a word for it. Not in either of our worlds. But I do know that it’s a hell of a lot more than boyfriend.”
The words tumbled over Keira, cracking open the air around her like an unexpected and very loud chord. Her head rang with it, filling her with its own rhythm and color and light.
She stared at Walker. She couldn’t voice the feeling spilling through her. It was something she could have played on the piano, maybe. Something she could have made him feel with notes and sounds. But without a piano all she could do was hope that he could see the joy in her eyes.