Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (20 page)

She scowls at me. “Oh for fuck sakes!”

“Well, you did.”

“If I turned red,” she begins defensively. “It’s only because I was embarrassed that she was acting like a complete idiot. That’s my guardian, Bree. You think I’m not embarrassed by that fact every second of the day?”

I’m fazed by her sudden anger and find myself struggling to decide where I should take the conversation from here. Maybe it’s better to just leave it and save the rest for another day. Obviously my own guilt is getting in the way of how I am seeing Skylar. She wouldn’t be sleeping with a guy, not anymore, not after what happened with Parker. There’s no way.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally. “Obviously it was Spencer, I shouldn’t have questioned it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she replies coolly. “Especially after everything we’ve been through lately.” I can hear a hint of accusation in her voice and it makes me nervous. I know that she couldn’t possibly know that I’m still seeing Evan, but this conversation feels like it’s heading into dangerous territory and I don’t want to be anywhere near it.

“I should go.”

“Fine,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” I say back. I unlock her bedroom door and take off out of the apartment. She doesn’t follow me to walk me home.

Skylar

As soon as I see Bree running through the parking lot and up the trail toward the school, I turn away from my window and storm out of my room. Cecelia is lying on the couch, still conscious, but barely.

“You did that on fucking purpose!”

She peers at me through heavy, drunken eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asks in a mumble, rubbing her palm over her forehead.

“Bree. You told her there was a guy here to upset her! You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“You watch your fucking mouth with me,” Cecelia slurs. “You had a boy here. I didn’t make it up.”

“Yeah, but nothing happened. She didn’t need to know that he was here.”

“Oh, stop your belly aching. You brought him into your room, you let him spend the night—”

“He didn’t spend the night!” I say, interrupting her. “He was here for like ten minutes before you showed up. We aren’t even like that.”

She raises an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced by my last statement and reaches for her pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. When the pack falls to the floor, she curses and attempts to reach for it without sitting up. “Get those for me, will ya?”

I sigh, making my annoyance with her very clear before picking up the pack. I pull out a cigarette for myself before hurling the pack at her face. She ignores the gesture and continues on as though I had passed the pack to her normally, lighting her cigarette and then handing me the lighter. “Does
he
know you two aren’t like that?” she asks, exhaling and blowing the smoke in my direction.

I roll my eyes while lighting up my own cigarette. “Yes. Bree’s the only one for me.”

She shakes her head and chuckles, “Well, you might want to give that poor guy the memo because he’s in love with you.”

I shrug, trying not to let those last words bother me. Oddly enough, though, they actually upset me more than most things she’s said in the past. “He knows I’m with Bree,” I mumble.

“What a waste.”

My blood begins to boil. “What? Me with Bree?” I demand, taking a long drag of my cigarette and exhaling just as long and slow.

“You with Bree, yeah. She’s a waste.” Her slurred words run into each other and the phrase comes out so jumbled that I’m not completely sure if it’s actually what she said, but I don’t get her to repeat it. I’ve heard enough.

I don’t expect Cecelia to understand the connection Bree and I share, but it pisses me off that she won’t even try to get it. Bree and I are right for each other. Everything we feel for one another is pure and it’s wonderful. Or at least it used to be, until recently.

I try to pretend like things haven’t changed, but they have. Tonight our moments together were rigid and forced, she seemed irritated with me and I was just as irritated with her. But why?

I start to feel uneasy for the second time tonight as I think back to how Bree behaved with me earlier, and then how she reacted to what Cecelia had said. This is not normal Bree behavior. She’s different. Something’s changed. And I hate the way we left things tonight. I snapped at her because she was prodding me about something that was actually nothing. But, of course, there is no way for me to prove that without having to explain Parker. A conversation I’m very much not ready to have with her just yet.

“Don’t tell Bree anything else about my private life! Stay the fuck out of it!” I yell, stomping back to my room like a spoiled six-year-old.

As soon as I have the door closed behind me and securely locked, I reach for my phone on the dresser and hastily scroll through the contacts. Parker. He’s actually still saved in my phone, but I can’t understand how I didn’t think to delete him after all this time.

I press the text button.

Me:
It’s Sky. Can we talk?

I don’t get a reply and so I throw the phone onto the bed and plop myself down beside it. I don’t know why I’m even texting him. The phone beeps a few minutes later and I grab it up quickly.

Parker:
You remembered my # ??

Me:
I had it saved. Don’t know why I didn’t delete it.

Parker:
Is everything ok?

Me:
How do you know if someone is cheating on you?

Long pause…

Parker:
I don’t know. What’s this about?

Me:
I was just thinking about how someone acts when they are cheating.

Another pause…

Parker:
And you thought to ask me? I’ve never cheated on anyone.

Me:
I know that… I just thought… sorry. This was a mistake.

Parker:
Is this about Bree?

Me:
She’s different lately. With me.

Yet another pause…

Parker:
You’re killing me here. Is this what I am now? A person you go to for your relationship advice about your girlfriend?

Me:
I’m trying to find a place for you, ok? This is complicated.

Parker:
Yeah I know.

Me:
I really shouldn’t have texted you with this. I’m sorry.

Parker:
I’m not mad, it just sucks, you know?

Me:
Yeah…

I suddenly feel disgusted with myself for doing this to him. What was I thinking? I should have texted Spencer.

Parker:
I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.

The words make me smile, in spite of my guilt, not only because of what is said, but also because of the effort I know it must have taken for him to write the words.

Me:
Thanks :)

Parker:
Anytime…gtg ttyl?

Me:
Ya. ttyl. :)

Bree

I spend the whole night tossing and turning, unable to sleep due to both guilt and suspicion. I must have slept no more than an hour in all, because when I walk into work the next morning I’m completely floored. My hair is a mess, I didn’t bother putting on any makeup, and the bags under my eyes have bags of their own!

“Whoa!” Spencer says when he sees me. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Long story,” I mumble, continuing toward the staffroom.

Spencer follows close behind. “The store doesn’t open for another fifteen minutes. I have time.”

I have every intention to keep walking away from Spencer, not wanting to get him involved in our relationship issues. I can’t afford to accidentally tell him that I’ve been seeing Evan behind Skylar’s back because to be honest, when push comes to shove, I suspect Spencer would choose Skylar over me any day of the week. But as I make the conscious decision to keep quiet, I’m reminded of just how close Spencer and his
babygirl
actually are. I turn on my heels abruptly. “Skylar and I had a fight last night.”

“About what?” he asks, genuinely concerned. She didn’t call him about it then… that’s strange.

“Cecelia came home while we were in bed together last night and barged in on us to see if Skylar had another
boy
in her room,” I say, raising my voice on the word ‘boy’.

“Say what?” Spencer chokes on his words. He has no idea what I am talking about. You’d think if it were him that Cecelia caught in Skylar’s room like Skylar says it was, he would know what it is I’m talking about.

“So it wasn’t you?” I ask. I suspected Skylar was lying last night, but seeing Spencer prove my suspicions are right feels like a slap in the face. I don’t have a right to hurt like this, and I know that, but it doesn’t change what knowing the truth makes me feel like.

“No,” he says and then seems to realize something. “I mean I don’t think so…. wait… when was this?”

“About two weeks ago. It wasn’t you?” I ask again, still hanging onto any type of hope available at this point.

“Oh!! Yep,” he says with an exaggerated nod. “God yeah, two weeks ago. That was me. I was there.” He keeps nodding over and over again and I know it’s a complete lie. He’s not even trying!

“You’re lying.”

“No, seriously, I was there, it was just so long ago I forgot about it. Two weeks is a long time, you know.”

I nod, unconvinced. “Yeah, I bet.”

“Seriously. I was comforting her… because… that’s when everything was going down with you and Evan. So, yeah, I was there with her. I spent the night and Cecelia walked in and she jumped to conclusions.”

I shake my head in disgust, “For fuck sakes Spencer, you’re a bad liar!”

“I’m not lying,” he says. His eyes look stressed, and the creases in his forehead give him away entirely.

“She’s cheating on me,” I say in a panic, my out of control emotions matching the rest of my appearance this morning.

Spencer shakes his head and his facial features soften. “No, she’s not cheating on you, babe. I promise.” He reaches over to me and drapes his arm around my shoulder, attempting to comfort me. “I spent some time there when everything was going down with you and Evan,” he tells me again, this time in a soothing whisper. “I promise, she’s not cheating on you. I was there, it was me. Ok?”

I nod. I’m not convinced, but I don’t want to think about who it could possibly be. I don’t want to think about how I had this coming. I deserve this and I know it, but I don’t want to think about it. “Ok.”

He gives me a tight hug. “Don’t worry, she’s yours.”

I nod. Mine, yeah. Then why does he look so worried?

Skylar

“What the fuck, Sky!” Spencer says as soon as I open the door to let him into Cecelia’s apartment. He storms into the messy kitchen and spins around to face me. His face is a perfect mix of anger and concern.

I shut the door behind him. “Good to see you too, Spenc,” I say sarcastically, heading toward the patio door with a pack of cigarettes in my hand and a single cigarette dangling from my lips.

“What guy was here? Was it Parker?” he asks, putting bitter emphasis on Parker’s name as he says it.