Chapter twenty-two
Things were sort of okay over the next week.
There hadn’t been any more visits from Detective Ramirez, and my meetings with Mrs. Messer stopped since I began seeing Dr. O’Connell.
I kind of missed her and her glasses, though.
The pills seemed to be working faster than expected. No hallucinations or random notes. However, I did find my stash of legal notepad in the office at home while looking for some paper clips. Seeing the pad of paper kind of hit home for me. That night was bad, full of tears and frustration.
But even with the pills and how things had calmed down around me, there was this growing unrest within me, usually worse at night, when I lay awake, counting the neon-green stars to make sure there were still fifty-six on the ceiling. It was like a lull in the storm, right before chaos reigned supreme. Each night, after practice, Carson came over to “watch TV” with Scott, which really was just a front to hang out with me without freaking my parents out. It seemed to be working, and those one to two hours a night had become something I looked forward to the most every day. We’d sit side by side on the couch, pretending to watch TV while Scott pretended that he wasn’t watching us like a hawk. Carson had gotten creative in ways to accidentally touch me, a brush of his hand or leg. By the time he
left, I wanted to crawl in his lap and kiss him.
And he hadn’t tried to kiss me. We hadn’t even come close
since the day he visited me after the accident. I had a feeling that
he didn’t want to rush things because of everything that I’d been
through, and I wasn’t offended by that.
Prom became everyone’s focus at school. Even Veronica and
Candy had turned their slur campaigns toward their prom court
competition instead of me. With each passing day, I faded into
the background, and I loved it.
Del got to me after classes on Friday, while I switched out
books, following up on the promise I hadn’t kept.
The shiner had faded to just a very faint blue under his eye,
but he looked like crap. “We need to talk.”
I was so getting tired of hearing those words. Grabbing my
trig book, I shoved it into my bag. “No, we don’t.” I spun around
and headed toward the back entrance.
He was right beside me, dogged as ever. “People were talking
in practice yesterday.”
I could only imagine about what. Pushing open the door, I
took the pavilion steps two at a time. Scott would be waiting to
take me home before heading back for practice.
“Don’t you even want to know?” he asked, anger sharpen
ing his words.
“Not really.”
He shot in front of me, blocking my path between two cars.
“What is with you? You’re acting like we weren’t together for
almost four years, Sammy. Four years and you can’t even give
me the time of day?”
There was a good chance that the pills might be kicking in
ahead of schedule, because I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even sad. Looking up at him, I felt nothing but general disappointment. Maybe
it wasn’t the pills—just a sign that I was moving on from this. Kind of like how everyone seemed to be moving on from
Cassie.
I shouldered my backpack and squinted. “I’m sorry. I know
we spent a long time together—”
“But since you can’t remember it, you don’t care? Well, I do.
I remember it and I care.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” I sighed, glancing over
his shoulder. If Scott caught Del blocking me like this, he’d end
up with another black eye. “I know you care about that time, and
believe it or not, so do I.”
“Good.” He sounded hopeful. “At least that’s a common
ground.”
“Not in that way. I care about you, and maybe one day I’ll
forgive you for those pictures, but even if I did, we aren’t getting
back together.”
He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. Hurt flickered across his face, but behind that was stubbornness and something darker and stronger than I cared to see. At least I knew the pills
didn’t totally squash my emotional compass.
“Can’t we just go somewhere and talk?”
My mouth dried. “You have practice.”
“Screw practice. Our relationship is more important than a
damn practice.”
“I’m not more important. Baseball means a lot to you.” “That’s not true.” He looked as if I’d hit him upside the head
with a concrete block, as if he couldn’t believe I’d disagree. “We
need to talk this out.”
Apprehension was growing rapidly, and it made me impatient to get away from him. “I need you to understand this, Del.
We aren’t getting back together. Not now. Not a week from—” “It’s true, then? What I heard in practice yesterday? That
you’re going to prom with Carson?”