Don't Look Back (25 page)

I was waiting outside the library at school, my head tipped back. Satisfaction poured off me, dampening the jealousy that simmered in my belly whenever I saw him even looking at Cassie after that party.

I had him and I was going to ruin him.
Footsteps sounded, and I opened my eyes, already smiling with anticipation. Carson stepped out, saying something to Dianna.
I bolted off the wall, stepping directly in front of him. “We need to talk.”
His bright blue eyes sharpened with wariness. He glanced at Dianna. “I’ll see you later.”
The girl nodded and quickly darted off. I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “How are you, Carson?”
“What do you want, Sam?” He started walking. “I’ve got things to do, and even though I’m sure this is going to be interesting, I don’t have time.”
My eyes narrowed at him. Jealousy was there, but so was anger. How could he always be so dismissive of me? Every guy in this damn school wanted me. Everyone but him.
“I know something,” I said.
He stopped just before the doors and rolled his eyes. “And...?”
“I know you’re paying Dianna.”
“Yep, for sex. You got me.”
I pressed my lips together, pissed that he wasn’t at all intimidated by me. Probably had to do with the fact that I’d spent the better part of my life running around shirtless with him and my brother. “I doubt you need to pay anyone for sex. Although I’m surprised you actually got with Cassie without her paying you.”
His eyes settled on me, steady and consuming. I loved and hated his eyes. “Is this what you wanted to talk about? The fact that I hooked up with Cassie months ago?”
“No.” My hands balled into fists. Jealousy was a bitch, but so was I. And I knew what I was about to do was so wrong, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t care. “But it has to do with the fact that you’re paying the daughter of your history teacher. Hmm...” I tapped my chin. “I wonder what for. Wait. Don’t you share that class with Cassie?”
Carson folded his arms. “Yeah, I do.”
“And she said that you’re failing that class. So I wonder what you could possibly be paying Dianna for.”
“Gee, I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
Anger flushed my skin, sharpening my tongue. “I know you’re paying Dianna to get her little hands on her daddy’s tests and she’s helping you cheat.”
He stared at me a long second, then laughed. “Okay. You got me. What are you going to do, Nancy Drew?”
My hands itched to slap him. “Cassie knows, and you know how terrible she is with keeping a secret.”
His jaw worked.
“I’m sure a little birdie will put it in the principal’s ears soon enough, and then you know what will happen.” I grinned then, loving the way his attention was completely on me—bad attention, but I had it. I had him. “They take cheating seriously around these parts. So does Penn State, I hear.”
Carson’s lips thinned. “Jesus, Sam...”
I pushed open the door, stepping out into the brisk March air. “You can kiss that scholarship good-bye. Shame.”
“You’re such a...”
“What? A bitch?” I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. “Ouch.”
“No. You’re not a bitch.” He followed me outside, eyes sheltered. “It’s sad, actually, when I think about how you used to be.”
Not what I’d been angling for, and beneath the anger, hurt waited. “I’m not sad.”
His lips twitched into a mocking smile. “Yeah, you are. Do your worst, Sam. And you’ll regret it.”
Jerking up, I clutched the blankets to my chest. Pressure clamped down on my throat, on my chest. The dark, postercovered walls of Carson’s bedroom shifted unsteadily.
It wasn’t a dream. Oh god, no, it was a memory. I knew it in my bones, in every cell. Carson had been paying Dianna to do his essays, to fix his exams for the one class he was failing. And somehow I’d found out—I’d told Cassie and I’d threatened to expose him, ruin his baseball scholarship and his life.
Do your worst ... and you’ll regret it.
Sickness rose in my throat. Had he ... could he have been the third person on the cliff? My entire body went cold. It couldn’t be.
Oh my god...
Out of everyone, he had a reason to shut us up. Suddenly, I remembered the sense of wariness in his gaze when he saw me the first day back home, the way he didn’t really have anything good to say about Cassie, how he knew the cliff just as well as I did, and how adamant he was that I hadn’t been the one to hurt Cassie. The notes I was leaving myself—
Don’t let him know you remember anything
. Had my subconscious been trying to warn me?
To warn me to not let Carson know?

Heart pounding, my stomach rolled. I’d just given myself to him, told him that I loved him, and... I couldn’t even finish that thought. I needed to get out of here, to think this through, because it couldn’t be him—anyone but him.

Carson stirred beside me, slowly sitting up. “What is it, Sam?”
“I have to go.” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Okay.” He yawned, running the palm of his hand over his forehead. “Let me walk you back. It’s late.”
“No. You don’t have to.” I threw off the cover and found my dress in a pile.
Carson sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t want you to...” He trailed off, watching me tug the dress on over my head. Grinning, he reached for me.
I jumped back, tripping over his shoes. I caught myself on the wall.
His grin faded. “Are you okay, Sam?”
“Yeah.” Panic pawed at me as I managed to get the zipper halfway up my back. “It’s late. I just need to get back.”
He didn’t look entirely convinced now that he was wide awake. Worry furrowed his brows as I searched for my shoes, finally giving up when I couldn’t find them in the dark. Grabbing my clutch off his desk, I backed up toward the door.
“I’ll ... I’ll see you later.” Emotion clogged my throat, but I couldn’t let myself think about what had happened between us and what he could’ve done without breaking down.
He stood, and it was a lot to keep my eyes trained on his face. “Wait. Why are you freaking out? Sam?”
Unable to say anything without bursting into tears, I reached for the door and blindly stumbled out in the narrow hallway. Bumping into shadowed objects, I ignored the flashes of pain and rushed to the front door. I winced at the whining sound the door made and slipped outside, closing it behind me.
I dragged in gulps of air. Sharp pebbles dug into my feet, and then blades of cool grass cushioned my steps.
Was it Carson? Had it always been him?
A splinter hit my heart, and then another.
Carson.
My thoughts swam, going from the moment I saw him in my bedroom, up until the last, soul-burning kiss he’d given me before I fell asleep. Hurrying across the trimmed field, I balled my hand over my mouth to stifle my cry. It couldn’t be him. I trusted him beyond a doubt, and he’d been so kind toward me, even though I’d been sure I didn’t deserve it. Doubt blossomed under the confusion, trying to take hold, but those words... Those words—they had to be a warning.
“Sam!”
A strangled sob escaped me. I couldn’t face him, couldn’t even look at him without giving myself some time to reason this through.
Carson caught up to me before I even reached the halfway point. Catching my arm, he spun me around. He was bare from the waist up, pants not even buttoned in his haste to reach me.
“What’s going on, Sam?” he demanded, eyes wide and dilated.
I tried to wrestle my arm free. “Please, just let me go. Please.”
He held on. “What’s wrong? Did we go too fast? Just talk to me, Sam.”
My breath caught as my eyes met his, and another crack pierced my heart. “Did you do it?”
“Did I do what?” He reached with his free hand, brushing back my hair. “Talk to me, Sam. Help me understand what’s going on. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
The tenderness in his voice caused my chest to squeeze. How could he be like this after what he’d done? It made all this incredibly surreal. “I... I remembered something.”
Confusion poured from him, so sincere I started to doubt myself. “Okay. What?”
“It was about you,” I said, my pulse pounding. “I knew you were paying Dianna—cheating on your history exams. I must’ve told Cassie, and I ... I threatened you at school, when you were leaving the library. You told me that if I told anyone, I’d regret it.” Carson dropped my arm and took a step back. “Sam...”
I trembled at the weight of his one word. “I told you I was going to tell the principal.”
“You ... you think ... ?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “You think it was me because of that?”
“There was a third person there, and you ... you had reason....”
He stared at me, pain—not anger—contorting his face, and my conviction started to waver even more.
“I can’t believe you,” he said, stunned.
“Me?” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.
“Yes! You! My god, I thought ... I thought you’d changed, but that’s the old Sammy. Jumping from one messed-up assumption to another, making everything about you!” He stepped forward, eyes flashing in the thin slice of moonlight. “What the fuck, Sam?”
“But I saw you with her, you were giving her money, and I threatened you. I told Cassie! We were planning to go to the principal.” Even as those words left my mouth, I had a second to realize how truly bitchtastic I’d been. Sure, cheating was wrong, but jeez.
Carson stared at me, then laughed grimly. “You have no clue what you saw.”
“Then tell me because I really don’t want to believe this!”
He flinched, and again, I was hit with another pang of doubt. He was angry with me, but not in the way I thought he’d be, and there was too much hurt behind his words, in his eyes. “You saw me paying Dianna. That did happen. But I was paying her to
tutor
me in history.”
My arms fell to my sides. “What?” I choked out.
“Yeah, that’s what I was paying her for—still am. My dad has been working overtime for
your
father to get that money, cleaning his offices and doing all kinds of bitch work so I’ll keep my scholarship.”
I remembered what my mom had said. Guilt whipped through me with barb-tipped lashes. Oh my god, how could I be so ... so wrong? “Why didn’t you tell me when I accused you?”
“Why did I need to? Why did I owe you, of all people, the truth then? You wouldn’t have believed me.” He drew in a deep breath and cursed. “Jesus, Sam, you thought it was me? That I pushed Cassie off a cliff and then you?”
Tears built in my eyes as I pushed my wind-tossed hair out of my face. “But you said I’d regret it.”
Carson jerked back from me as if I’d slapped him. And maybe a slap would’ve been better. Since the accident, Carson had been there for me and he hadn’t doubted me once. And I had.
“As in one day, you’d regret the things that you’ve done. Not in the way you think—
wait
. You
really
think I meant I’d hurt you? Even after I told you how I felt?” When he saw the answer in my expression, he swore again. “I could never,
ever
hurt you. You could’ve gone to the principal or whoever, and I wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it.”
“Why didn’t I go to the principal or Cassie?”
“I don’t know.” He took a breath, exhaling harshly. “I’d like to think you had a change of heart, but that’s doubtful. You and Cassie disappeared that weekend.”
And I knew then he was telling the truth, and I had acted impulsively when I came out of the memory. I couldn’t see through the tears as I reached for him blindly. “Carson, I’m so—”
“You’re sorry?” He dodged me, backing away as he shook his head. “Not as sorry as I am.”
My heart cracked straight down the middle. “I’m so sorry. I’m just confused. I only remembered—”
“And you automatically assumed that I was capable of those things? Why? Because I seem likely to bribe, cheat, and murder someone? Then hang around you and
sleep
with you after I tried to kill you?” Pain lanced his words, as if I’d cut open a fresh wound. “Because the old Sammy would have believed those things, but I thought she was gone. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Carson—”
“No.” He kept backing up, his jaw clenched tight. “No. You’re still the same old Sammy. Just not as mean as you used to be, but she’s still there. Stupid me to think any different.”
Apologizing felt stupid and pointless. What I’d accused him of was terrible, but I couldn’t stop. I needed him to know how awful I felt. Hurrying forward, my foot caught on the gown and I stumbled forward.
Carson caught me by the arms before I could crash face-first into the hard ground. “Jesus, Sam,” he said through clenched teeth.
I pressed my forehead against his bare chest, barely able to breathe past the tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m just so confused.”
His hands fluttered around my arms and a second later, he wrapped me against him, burying his face in my hair. His embrace only lasted a few moments at most, and then he let go and stepped back.
“Go home, Sam.” His voice was tight, choked. “Just go home.”
Standing there, I watched him turn and jog away, disappearing into the shadows. An ache opened in my chest, rushing through me. I could’ve gone after him again, but I knew... I knew I’d lost him before I really even had him.

When I woke up the following morning, every part of my body ached for different reasons. Some of it was good. Most of it was bad. I didn’t want to open my eyes or get out of bed, but I became aware of the fact that I wasn’t alone.

My brother sat at the head of my bed, legs crossed at the ankles and the morning newspaper in his lap—the sports section.
Rubbing my hand over my swollen eyes, I scowled. “What are you doing in here?”
“Hmm... questions, questions. I have some of my own.” He folded the newspaper and dropped it on the floor. “What happened last night?”
I stared at him, in no mood for brotherly caring-and-sharing time.
He raised his hand. “I’m curious. You left prom after only being there an hour. Carson took you home, apparently. Del looked like I’d punched him again, but I didn’t.” He paused, ticking each one off his finger. The ring finger was next. “I went running with Carson this morning, and all he would say is that you had some memories come back and then he wouldn’t talk at all. Aaaaand...”
“There’s more,” I groaned, shoving my face into the pillow. Hearing Carson’s name had my heart aching in a way I knew I’d never get over.
“And even though you and Carson left
way
before I did, you snuck back into the house
way
after I got home. Care to explain?”
“No.” My voice was muffled by the pillow.
Scott stretched out beside me. “I don’t want the dirty details. I’d like to keep my breakfast in my stomach, but as long as Carson has been secretly in love with you—”
I popped up, rising to my knees. Thick curls still left over from last night fell in my face. “Oh god.” I covered my face with my hands. “Kill me now.”
“What happened?” He pulled my hands away from my face. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It is. It really is.” I flopped onto my back. “I was terrible before I lost my memory and I’m terrible afterward. I accused Carson of being the one who hurt Cassie and me.”
“Oh, jeez, Sam, you’re going to have to give me a better explanation than that.”
I did, starting with the memory I had at prom and the one later that night, leaving out most of what had happened with Carson. According to my version of events, I fell asleep talking to him.
When I finished, Scott shook his head. “He’ll get over it, Sam.”
“No, he won’t.” Because seriously, who gets over being accused of murder?
“Yeah, he will. He understands you’ve been through a lot. You’ve just got to give him some time.”
I raised my arms helplessly. “I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m going to have to agree with that.” Scott stood. “Look, go take a shower. Julie and I are going to see a movie. You should come with us.”
A little bit of interest stirred, but I shook my head. I needed more time to wallow in my lameness. Scott left, and I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling. How could I be so stupid? It was a talent, I decided.
By the time I got up, it was late in the afternoon. Scott was still at the movies with Julie, Mom had left to attend a charity fund-raising meeting or something, and I had no idea where Dad was or whether he was even home. I dragged myself into the shower. At some point, the tears mingled with the water, and even after I’d dried off and changed, my face was still damp.
I had to make it up to Carson, but I wasn’t sure I could. No one could blame him for not getting over this.
Sitting down on my bed, I glanced at the music box. The tingling, burning sensation shot up my spine, and I was tossed headfirst into a memory.
I stomped down Del’s driveway, face full of tears. How could he do this? How could she? I was her best friend, the only person who put up with her crap, and she’d slept with my boyfriend.
I hated her—hated him.
Del caught up to me. “Sammy, I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I was drunk. So was she.”
“Is that supposed to make it okay?” I spun on him, hands shaking. “It doesn’t! You slept with my best friend!”
He glanced over his shoulders anxiously. “Keep it down. My parents are going—”
“I don’t care!” My voice was shrill. “Did you guys wait until I passed out? Did you have fun ringing in the New Year with her?”
“No! It wasn’t like that. I swear.”
I laughed harshly and reached up, my fingers curling around the necklace. With a vicious tug, the delicate chain gave and snapped. I flung it back at him. “We’re over. For real this time.”
Del’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”
Oh, I was completely serious. I didn’t care what my parents thought or wanted. And it suddenly made sense why Cassie wanted to meet me at the summer house later tonight. She was going to fess up to sleeping with my boyfriend. Nice. “I’m so sick of her doing stuff like this!”
He reached for me, but I stepped out of the way. “Sammy, you need to calm down.”
I shook my head. “I’m so going to kill her.”
When I snapped out of the memory, I was standing in my bedroom, staring at my reflection. The girl’s face in the mirror was devoid of any blood, hazel eyes diluted to the point her eyes almost looked black. A tremor ran through her body, and her chest rose sharply.
She was me.
Taking a step back, I placed my fingers against my mouth. Del had cheated on me with Cassie. Was that why I’d been so drawn to the picture of them taken on New Year’s Eve? Another part of my subconscious trying to wiggle itself free, demanding that I acknowledge what that photo had meant to me? Again, Del had lied to me. I hadn’t taken the necklace off because I wanted to take a shower. I’d thrown it in his face. I’d grown a pair and broken up with him. That small triumph was lost in the shadow of everything else, though.
The anger simmered through my veins still, like a poison infecting bone and tissue with a sickness. When I’d said I was going to kill Cassie, I thought I’d meant it.
Cassie had wanted to meet at the lake house, and according to Carson, I’d gone home first. And the reason why I’d been crying and had kissed Carson kind of made sense now.
I laughed and then cringed at the high-pitched sound.
No wonder Del thought I owed him. And he’d been right. He
had
been protecting me. Only he knew how upset I’d been at Cassie the night she died. Del had known the truth. There probably hadn’t been a third person on the cliff, not in the literal sense, but just another way my subconscious was trying to tell me that someone else knew the truth, knew what I’d done.
The notes didn’t make sense, or how Cassie and I had ended up on the cliff, but did it matter now?
A floodgate of emotions broke open, ripping through me as if I were made of tissue paper. All those moments when I’d suspected everyone—Del, Scott, Carson—and when I’d entertained the idea that it had been a stranger danced before me.
My knees were knocking together, my breath coming out in short rasps. It had to be me—it had always been me. I had reason to hurt Cassie, more than anyone else, and that anger—that terrible surge of raw destruction—was still in me. Would I have really killed her over
Del
?
God, I’d never hated myself more.
I spun around, tears blurring my vision as I grabbed the music box off the bedside table and threw the box straight at the mirror. A disjointed note squeaked from the box. Glass shattered in dozens of pieces, falling and falling. I was that mirror—that box—destroyed, broken into a bunch of jagged sections.
The box hit the floor. The little dancer in her tutu shattered, but the base remained. It made another weak sound, like a tiny mewl.
Light flashed behind my eyes, followed by a slicing pain shooting between my temples as if someone had shoved a screwdriver behind them. I doubled over, clutching my head, wondering whether I’d somehow been cut by a sadistic piece of glass.
And then it happened.
Dizziness swept through me like tumultuous waves crashing and eroding the shoreline. With each lap, a new memory popped free. Jumping from halfway up the grand stairs, into Scott’s waiting arms, giggling as he yelled at me. Mom replaced him, holding me tight as the doctor checked my broken wrist, her soothing words lost in my tears. Another came of me sitting cross-legged in the tree house, across from an impish ten-year-old Carson.
“Truth or dare!” I yelled.
“Dare.” He grinned. “I dare you to kiss me.”
That was caught and swept away, replaced by the first time I met Cassie. How I’d been so drawn to her, like I was looking into my own reflection. The two of us running away from the boys, giggling when we tripped, dressed up in her mother’s shoes and dresses. On and on they came, going back in time and then fast-forwarding to when we were fifteen, sitting in her bedroom.
“You’re so lucky,” she said softly. “You have everything.”
I didn’t understand that then, but I’d watched her slide a folded-up piece of parchment into the bottom of her music box, securing the hidden slot.
And then that was gone, lost in a rising tide of memories. My life—the things I’d done and said to people. In a rush, all of it had come back to me. The childhood spent trailing my brother and Carson around—
Carson
. An entire wealth of emotion brought me to my knees. The almost obsessive friendship that I’d had with Cassie and how it had swallowed my entire life. Memories of being introduced to Del at a company holiday party, practically shoved together by our parents, pricked at my skin and heart. So much pressure to be perfect, to be better than everyone else. Anger swirled like ticked-off wasps in my chest. I’d been so angry, so bitter under the facade. So desperate to run my own life that I turned into the person who struck out, hurting others to make myself feel better, to have some kind of control.
But I was mean ... because I could be. Because no one dared to stop me. There was no real excuse for my behavior, for what I let Del do, for how I let Cassie pick up after my own mother, letting her run my life. I’d made so, so many bad mistakes, but that night...
I’d gone to the cabin, caught in a stormy mix of emotions. I’d just broken up with Del and kissed Carson, and my best friend was a traitorous bitch. Another text from her had led me up to the cliff. I’d slipped my phone in the back pocket of my jeans before I’d thrown it into a nearby tree. I’d been so angry, even more irritated by the fact that I had to find my way through the woods in the dark without killing myself. I hadn’t known what I was going to do when I got my hands on her, but like with Del, our friendship was over. Stealing my clothes and jewelry was one thing, but my boyfriend? That was it. I was done with her.
But what I saw when I neared the edge of the woods and the cliff came into view wasn’t something I expected or could really comprehend, but most important, I remembered.
I saw the face of Cassie’s killer.