Pictures of You (32 page)

             
“Adrien, wait!” I left my food and the spilled water and my family in confusion and ran after him. And I left Chris. I knew it would hurt him. But I couldn’t think about that right now.

             
I thought I’d lost Adrien once and I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

             
“September, I think you owe us an explanation,” I heard my father say as I shut the front door behind me.

             
“Adrien, please. Wait,” I said as he unlocked his car. “Please, just let me explain.”

             
“You don’t need to explain. I get it,” he said, refusing to look at me. He was hurt. I could see it all over his face. He was really hurt.

             
“No, you’ve got it all wrong,” I said. “Please. Let’s talk.”

31

             
“Please,” I begged, trying unsuccessfully to open the passenger door. “Don’t leave. Please, just let me explain.”

             
He dropped his head in defeat and then unlocked the door so I could climb in.

             
“If that’s what you want, September.” The way he said it—without even a trace of hope in his voice—frightened me. Despite the mild weather, an arctic chill traveled up and down my spine. Suddenly I realized this was more than about the mix up with Chris. His words from earlier resurfaced: “There’s something I have to tell you, September
.
” And, “Tomorrow night,
you’re
going to leave
me
.”

             
What was he finally going to tell me? The big secret. So big it had to wait until after my parents’ party. So big, he was certain I was going to leave him—after all we’ve been through together.

             
“You okay?”
he said, resting his hand on my knee. “You don’t look—”

             
“That kiss? That was nothing,” was all I could muster up. I’m an idiot. What was I thinking? Letting Chris kiss me like that. Kissing him back—when I knew Adrien would come back at any moment? How could I hurt him like that? Of course the answer was screaming over and over in my head—and in my heart—but I refused to let myself think it. I refused to let myself feel it. “It was nothing,” I repeated lamely.

             
He laughed. “It didn’t
look
like nothing.”

             
“I told Chris you weren’t going to make it—to the party. That’s before you…well, I never got around to telling him
you’d
be my date. He knew all about John and April and he felt really bad for me. He wanted to help me out. I didn’t know he’d come. I swear I didn’t expect him to
kiss
me. He
has
a girlfriend.” I bit my lip, realizing I’d lied. Just before the kiss Chris revealed he’d broken up with Megan.

             
Chris had broken up with Megan. Wow, this was just getting more and more complicated.

             
“He won’t have a girlfriend for long. I saw the way he kissed you.” His expression hinted of jealousy.

             
I looked down at my hands in my lap. “Yeah, I guess he has a thing for me. I sort of overlooked that.”

             
His lips curled. “A
thing
would be putting it lightly. And I don’t blame the guy. You’re quite the catch. What guy wouldn’t want to be with you?”

             
“I could name a few,” I said, John being the first to come to mind. I laughed nervously. “He’s just my good friend. I want
you
, Adrien. I love
you
.” I had to use all my self-control to keep myself from climbing into his lap and latching onto him—refusing to ever let go.

             
He chuckled bitterly. “You won’t feel that way after…” He turned to me, his eyes piercing mine with so much intensity, it made me shudder. “I want…You should be with Chris. It’s plain he really loves you.”

             
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A wave of panic and hurt crashed over me, enveloping me. “Don’t…you…love me?”

             
“I do love you. Believe me.” He touched my hand for emphasis. “I love you desperately. But how
I
feel and what
I
want doesn’t matter. You’ll be happier with Chris—trust me. You deserve a good man.”

             
“I don’t
want
Chris—I want you.”

             
“I saw the way you kissed him,” he said, pulling his hand away from mine, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

             
My cheeks burned. His intruding stare wasn’t helping things. It was true. I did kiss him back. Why had I kissed him back? “I’m sorry,” I whispered, dropping my hand and forcing myself to look him in the eye.

             
“Please be honest with me,” he said, searching my face so intently, it made me feel naked. “Are you in love with him?”

             
I bit my lip. “No. I’m in love with you.”

             
He smiled a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Come on. I’m not buying it.”

             
I swallowed twice before I said, “I guess I might have
some
feelings for him. But they pale in comparison to how I feel about you.”

             
Adrien laughed. “Of course I’m jealous. But I have no right to be.”

             
Surprised, I said, “What does that mean?”

             
“It’s time you learned the truth. I
owe
you that. What you do with it is up to you. I promise you that you can choose…without feeling any worry or guilt,” he said, gently brushing my knee. “I’m not going to hurt myself when you—if you choose to leave me. I promise.”

             
I opened my mouth but I felt too sick to speak. I thought I’d lost him once. Now those feelings saturated my whole body all over again. I was so exhausted I was tempted to become a hermit and live in a cave. Never risk loving and losing anyone—ever again.

             
He continued, “First let me say that I care about you more than anything. I’m crazy in love with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” He ran a finger down the side of my face, making me almost liquefy into my seat. Why did he have such an effect on me? It’s not like I haven’t been touched by other guys. But with Adrien…something was different.

             
I braced myself, waiting for the inevitable
but
. I winced as he said it. “But I can’t lie to you anymore. I owe you the truth. Even though I know it will destroy what I treasure most—you and me—us.”

             
My mind began running a marathon a minute. He already shared what I thought was his darkest secret: that he’d—by accident—killed his sister. What could it possibly be now? Was he a teen father? A priest sworn to a lifetime of celibacy? A member of the mafia?

             
“Go on,” I said, almost inaudibly, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping to somehow protect myself from the truth—whatever it was.

             
Adrien took a long, shaky breath. “I…”

             
“Come on, you can tell me anything,” I said, touching his arm.

             
“I…killed someone.”

             
I laughed nervously. “You mean your sister, right?”

             
“Yes, but also…someone else. Someone…very special…to you.” He grabbed my hand. I felt him trembling. I searched his green eyes and saw pain so intense, it hurt me to look at them. He opened his mouth, struggling to form the words. “I…killed…Abby.”

             
“What?” I yanked my hand away, like a kid who touched a hot stove. After it sunk in for a moment, I started laughing.

             
He looked at me like I was nuts.

             
Surely he was joking. This wasn’t real. This
couldn’t
be real.

             
“I killed her, September,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

             
“What?” This wasn’t funny. Who’d joke about something like that?

             
“Don’t make me say it again,” he whispered, his face gnarled in pain.

             
“You…?
You
killed her? It was you?” He nodded.

             
It took me several seconds to digest his words. Or maybe it was minutes. Time was a blur at that point. We sat in silence, listening to a neighbor’s cat make strange hollering noises.

             
And then it really hit me, like a skyscraper tumbling down, crushing me.

             
“No!” I said. “No!”

             
“I killed her. I killed her.” He was crying now.

             
I threw my arms around my head, shielding myself from his words.

             
“I’m so sorry. So sorry,” he said, acting unsure whether to reach for me or pull farther away.

             
“It was you?” I echoed, too stunned to say anything else. I was confused. Really, really confused. It was too much for my tired brain to process.

             
“It was me,” he said, resignation in his voice.

             
We sat saying nothing as a whisper soft rain began to fall. It was not a surprise. Moody storm clouds loomed above us all day. The rain quickly intensified. We listened to the drumming noises it made falling onto the car, falling onto rooftops, falling onto trash can lids. The sound was strangely soothing. We watched it collect on the windshield and wash it clean. Only a stubborn spider remained. It struggled for some time to keep its ground, fighting for its life. We watched it intently. The stream of water kept pulling it down. Tenacious, the spider would manage to climb back up. Finally it lost its strength. It gave up. The water washed it away.

             
There was a second wave, an aftershock. It felt like someone had knocked all the air out of me. I struggled to breathe. Every muscle in my body tightened like an angry fist. Dinner seemed to be inching up my throat, little by little. And then I opened the car door and spewed everything on my parents’ curb. A panic attack. I was having a panic attack. The first one in months.

             
I began weeping and rocking in my seat, making a sound so strange, so wild animal-like, I didn’t realize it was me at first. Hesitantly, Adrien reached out to touch my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I pulled away.              

             
How could this happen? Was this a sick joke? How could I meet and fall in love with the boy who killed Abby? I must be dreaming. This can’t be real.

             
Adrien sat helplessly, waiting for me to calm down. “Horrible isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel,” he whispered, his face pain stricken.

             
Finally, after several minutes, I calmed down enough to say, “When did you—? How long did you—?”

             
“I figured it out that day I made you and Mary waffles,” he said, reaching for me and flinching when I pulled away.

             
“And you didn’t say anything? You just let me fall in love with you?”

             
“I swear I didn’t know that would happen. I didn’t know we’d become so close. I wanted to tell you, believe me. But I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt you—more than I already had.”

             
“Then why now?”

             
“Because before, when I was going to kill myself, I knew the secret would be buried with me. But things have changed…I can’t keep lying to you, September. You deserve to know the truth.”

             
“How did it happen? And why did you just…” I squeezed my eyes shut, “leave us there? Leave Abby to die?”

             
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I’d just found out my father had cancer. They sent him home, giving him four to six months to live. I hadn’t seen or heard from him in years. He hasn’t spoken to me much since the divorce. He never truly forgave me for what I did to my sister…