Secrets That We Keep Page 39

  Silence followed. Absolute silence.

  A minute later, I knocked again. “Bentley?”

  Nothing.

  She honestly wasn’t going to say anything to me. No, go away. No, not interested. No, go fuck yourself.

  Nothing.

  I knocked again. “Come on. I know you’re in there.”

  Two minutes after that, I thumped my forehead against the door and sighed, then glanced both ways to make sure no one was looking before I snuck my hand down and experimentally tested the doorknob.

  Locked.

  “Dammit.” Smacking my hand against the offensive portal keeping me from her, I glared at it and called, “I’m here to apologize. Can you at least let me apologize?”

  When she wouldn’t even respond to that, my heart sank.

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” I stated stubbornly. “Not until you open the door and talk to me.”

  And I plopped down right there on the floor to rest my back against her door. I’d just pulled my phone out to keep myself company when Fox stuck his head out of his own room down the hall.

  “No luck, huh?”

  “What’s it look like to you?” I muttered, scowling irritably at him.

  He merely grinned and shrugged. “Wanna play cards while you wait?”

  I sighed because, no, I didn’t want to play cards. I wanted to see Bentley. But I said, “Sure.”

  Bentley’s brother disappeared into his room before coming back with a deck of playing cards.

  We played War, Go Fish, Rummy, Kings in the Corner, Black Jack, and Hearts.

  About an hour into the marathon, Fox got a text on his phone.

  After reading it, he smirked, lifted his face, and yelled, “Yes, he’s still here. Right outside your door.”

  A second later, he got another text that made him laugh. “She called me an ass.”

  I shrugged. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

  Another hour later, Knox appeared in the opening of the hall. “Beau, kiddo. You need to go home now. You can’t stay here all night waiting for her to change her mind.”

  “But he’s here to play cards with me,” Fox tried to argue on my behalf.

  “No, he’s not,” his father said before he focused on me and regretfully added, “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Go home.”

  I blew out a heavy breath, then lowered my face and nodded. The gift was still sitting next to me. When I glanced at it, I felt like bawling.

  “You got a piece of paper and something I could write with?” I asked Fox.

  Nodding immediately, he scooped up his cards and darted into his room to return with the supplies I’d requested.

  I had no idea what to say to her. I kind of wanted to be mad at her for blowing me off like this, but then, I knew I deserved it.

  So I simply wrote: I’m sorry.

  And I tucked the note into the bag with her present before I went home.

  The next morning at school, I slowed when I approached my locker to see something that looked like shredded rags hanging from the door.

  “What the…?” I slowed in front of it, lifting one of the tattered strips of cloth to frown at it in confusion before I realized what it was. The apology gift I’d left in front of Bentley’s door in the sack—a new blouse to replace the one I’d ruined with the dog turd—had been cut and ripped into about a dozen pieces.

  As the sections of shirt dripped over my trembling fingers, I shook my head in disbelief.

  She didn’t forgive me. She was honestly going to hold this prank against me forever, wasn’t she?

  “Hey, Beau. You okay?” a familiar voice asked.

  I looked up to find Bella, who’d been walking by with a stack of books, pause and tip me a curious and concerned look. “You look as white as a ghost.” Then her gaze dropped to what I was still holding. “What is that?”

  “Nothing,” I murmured, “it’s nothing.” Then I brushed past her, storming in the direction of Bentley’s locker. “Excuse me.”

  I wanted to be pissed. I mean, I was pissed. This was just mean.

  But a place inside me snickered, And you’ve never been mean to her? Worse to her?

  I had been, of course. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness. I wasn’t worthy of it. But I wanted it, anyway.

  When I saw her ahead of me at her locker, I stomped forward, but it was like she sensed me coming or something. She looked over, eyes flaring when our gazes locked, and then she slammed the locker closed, turned in the opposite direction, and hurried off, getting so caught in the foot traffic that I wasn’t able to catch up with her.

  We didn’t share any classes or even the same lunch break, so it was fairly easy for her to avoid me the rest of the day.

  That night, I visited her place again but was told she’d gone over to see Chloe.

  Well, I guess that meant I needed to visit my very good friend, Trick—Chloe’s brother. But when I got to the Ryan house, I learned Chloe and Bentley had gone to the mall to shop.

  For over a week, she successfully steered clear of me. I caught glimpses of her from a distance at school, but that was about it. And it wasn’t nearly enough. I was going crazy. She hadn’t touched me in nine days, hadn’t glared at me, hadn’t let me hear her voice by even calling me a pig or an asshole. I couldn’t take much more of this. I could feel myself internally falling apart.

  So the next night, I told my mom, “Hey, we should invite the Parkers over for supper.”

  Felicity was my mom’s best friend, and it had been a while since they’d gotten together and chatted. This could be a good evening for everyone.

  Mom looked up and blinked in surprise before saying, “Um. Okay.”

  I beamed at her. “Great! Thank you.” Then I slapped a grateful kiss to her cheek and hurried to my room to change into something nice. I put on some extra deodorant and ran a comb through my hair before returning to the kitchen to assist with supper, so we’d serve our guests the perfect meal.

  By the time the Parkers arrived nearly two hours later, I was a quivering mess of anticipation.

  “Hello?” Felicity called, tapping on the front door even as she pulled it open. “We’re here.”

  “Hey,” I greeted brightly, popping into the living room to play host before anyone else in my house could. “Come on in.”

  “We brought dessert,” she announced, holding up a plate full of her famous brownies when she stepped inside, followed by Knox. “I knew they were your favorite.”

  “Oh, God bless you,” I said, taking them from her. “I do love these things. They smell so good, too.” All the while, my gaze shot past her husband, only to land on Fox when he entered next.

  Which would leave Bentley to bring up the rear.

  But Fox shut the door behind him like he was the last to come inside. I blinked in confusion, wondering what was happening here. Bentley couldn't just skip a family dinner out with her freaking family.

  Except no one else opened the door and crossed the threshold. Mom entered the room to greet everyone, followed by Dad, and then my sister.

  I stood there and held the plate of brownies like a dumbass while the other six chatted and laughed, not a single one of them asking where Bentley was or making excuses as to why she hadn’t come or maybe even say she was only running late. It was like she simply did not exist.

  The problem was, I couldn’t be the one to ask. Then they’d all know this whole night had been arranged simply because I’d wanted to see her again.

  I mean, I’m sure they all basically knew that anyway. But no way in hell was I actually going to announce it and affirm my stupid longing for her by asking where she was.

  So I kicked my sister in the ankle.

  “Oww.” Lucy Olivia whirled away from Fox who she’d been talking to and sent me a scowl.

  I widened my eyes at her significantly as Mom began to herd us toward the dining room.

  “What?” she hissed.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes before giving he
r a death glare.

  “Geez, fine,” she grumbled and finally had mercy on me by asking Felicity, “So where’s Bentley tonight, anyway?” as seven people gathered around a long table set for eight.

  “Oh, she had a paper she said she had to write,” her mom announced, her gaze moving sympathetically to me as she said it.

  I swallowed, trying not to react.

  But really? She wasn’t coming at all? Did she hate me that much that she’d avoid something like this just so she wouldn’t have to see me?

  As I just stood there, trying not to fall apart or let anyone know I was falling apart, I heard Mom saying, “That’s okay. We’ll just make a plate for her to send home with you guys.” Then she touched my arm.

  I jumped and looked into eyes that were full of pity.

  “Beau, why don’t you get everyone’s drinks?”

  I nodded, only to realize everyone had already sat down, and they were probably wondering why I was still standing there, staring off into nothing.

  Keeping busy, serving everyone, was a nice diversion, even though Lucy Olivia had to be a pain and smirk at me, saying she didn’t want any ice in her glass after I’d just filled it with the sweet tea she requested.

  The meal seemed to take forever. I couldn’t stop looking at the empty plate across from me. And every time someone asked me a question, they had to repeat it again after finally getting my attention.

  “You’re not eating much,” Mom leaned toward me to whisper.

  I sent her a miserable glance and said, “I’m not hungry.” And I wasn’t. I couldn’t even eat one of Felicity’s brownies, and I usually snuck two or three more than my fair share of those.

  When Mom said, “Let me whip up a plate for Bentley before you go,” when the Parkers were ready to leave again, I finally perked to life enough to say, “I’ll do it, Mom.”

  She smiled at me and touched my face. “Thanks. You probably know what she likes more than I do, anyway.”

  And I did. I knew all of Bentley’s likes and dislikes.

  I arranged the dish, hoping to please her, then carefully covered it with tinfoil and delivered it to her mom, who was waiting by the door, slipping her purse over her shoulder while Fox headed outside and Knox hovered halfway in the exit.

  “Here you go, Felicity.” I hurried the plate over for her to take.

  “Thank you, dear.” But instead of taking the plate, she cupped my face gently in her hands and looked into my eyes, adding, “I’m sorry about tonight. But she’ll come around someday. Don’t lose hope.”

  I nodded, even though I didn’t believe a word she said. I’d messed up one time too many. Bentley was never going to forgive me.

  Chapter Four

  Bentley

  “Brought you some leftovers,” Mom announced, bustling into my room and causing me to look up with interest.

  “Really?” Sitting up, I stretched out my arms and hopped giddily on the mattress of my bed. “Thank God. I’m starving. What did Aspen cook tonight?”

  “Your favorite. Mashed potatoes and meatloaf with a side of peas.”

  “Wow.” I brought the plate to my lap and tore off the aluminum foil, only to blink in surprise. “It—it’s like she made this especially for me or something.” Even the proportions were amazingly astute of her. I had way more mashed potatoes and gravy than I would probably ever serve myself, and more than I’m sure Aspen or any mother would give me. But it was secretly how much I always wanted to take because nothing beat a heaping pile of mashed potatoes.

  “Hmm,” Mom murmured knowingly as she watched my reaction. “Yes. It does seem exactly like that, doesn’t it?”

  I glanced up, feeling a trickle of guilt nip at my conscience for skipping out on the meal with everyone else.

  Mom lifted her brows and held out a fork. I meekly took it. Then, because I just couldn’t help myself and I was starving, I scooped up my first bite of mashed potatoes.

  Waiting until I was in the middle of chewing and going in for a second round, Mom finally said, “Beau’s the one who prepared your plate for you.”

  I coughed a little, choking mid-swallow, and had to pound on my chest, eyes watering, before I muttered, “Great. Thanks for warning me. He probably spit on it.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “You know he didn’t.”

  I was tempted to set it aside and stop eating it completely, just to spite him, but then…

  I was hungry, and he’d never know whether I really ate the food or not, so what was the point? And besides, Aspen was a really good cook. So I ate the second bite.

  Mom sighed sadly and shook her head. “You broke that boy’s heart tonight, you know that?”

  I sent her a scowl. “I told you, I had a paper to write.”

  She sat down beside me. “I don’t know what’s going on this time between you two, but you better get it sorted out because you can’t just avoid him forever.”

  “Yes,” I snarled. “I can.” And I would.

  “Bentley—”

  “And how could you say you don’t know what it’s about? He threw dog poop on me and Ridgely. Dog poop, Mother.”

  She winced. “Yeah. That was pretty bad.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You think?”

  “Did you like him that much?” she asked sadly.

  My gaze zipped up, heart pounding in anxiety, eyes widening to double their usual size. “What?”

  There’s no way she could possibly know I secretly had daydreams about Beau Gamble. I’d always made sure to keep that humiliating little detail completely hidden from everyone.

  But I couldn’t help them. He noticed things about me. More than anyone else ever seemed to notice me. He typically used his acute powers of observation to somehow irritate me, sure, but it was kind of flattering to get that kind of unwavering attention, anyway.

  If he ever decided to be polite with his notice instead of tease, I’d probably be a complete goner for him.

  But Mom clearly wasn’t referring to Beau because she said, “Ridgely? Did you like him that much?”

  Oh.

  Ridgely.

  My shoulders sagged. I hadn’t even thought of Ridgely since that night. He hadn’t talked to me in school, texted me, or contacted me in any way, asking me for another date or even to tell me never again. And honestly, I’d been too concerned with trying to dodge Beau to even consider Ridgely in return.

  “Uh, well, not really,” I admitted with a wrinkle of my nose. Ridgely had kind of given off a slimy, creepy vibe whenever we’d been alone. I wouldn’t have had any interest in seeing him again, even if we hadn’t been slathered in dog feces together.

  “So you’re just not going to forgive Beau, then?”

  I sliced my mother with a scowl. “He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven.”

  “Oh come on, honey. He’s sorry—”

  “Sorry?” I cried incredulously. “Well, maybe he should’ve been sorry a long time ago because I’ve had enough. He’s one date too late. And now I just don’t care. He could live or die, and it wouldn’t matter to me. I’m done with Beau Gamble forever.”

  “That can’t be true. You’ve known the boy since birth. He—”

  “I hate him, Mom. I. Hate. Him.”

  “That’s ridiculous. He’s a sweet—”

  “Sweet?” I cried incredulously. “Yeah, to you maybe. But he’s never been sweet to me.”

  Sadly, I doubt he could be. There just seemed to be something about me he despised.

  “Will you just go over there and talk to him!” she muttered, growing irritable. “You do not hate him. And he’s going to be in your life for a long time to come, so the only person you’re hurting with this behavior is yourself.”

  And Beau, I wanted to snarl. The one person I was trying to hurt. Because that’s exactly what he deserved for always hurting me.

  I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m not going over there.”

  “Go over there, or you’re grounded. I’m not even saying you have to fo
rgive him, or like him, or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now. But make some kind of understanding with him. For your sake and the rest of the family’s.”

  “No. I’m not talking to him again.”

  “Oh God, you guys,” Fox cried, bursting into the room with wide, worried eyes as he held up his phone as if he’d just gotten a call. “Beau’s been in a car accident.”

  “What?” Mom and I cried together, whirling toward him.

  I flew off the bed, upsetting the plate that had been on my lap and causing food to fly everywhere.

  “Is he okay?” I demanded, pressing my hand against my heart as if that would help regulate it because it was suddenly thumping out of a control. “Oh God, he’s still alive, isn’t he?”

  Fox blinked at me, then smirked. “Thought you didn’t care,” he taunted, dropping the phone to his side and sniffing. “I thought he could die right now and it wouldn’t matter to you at all.”

  I blinked at him once before realizing he was playing one over on me. Beau hadn’t been in any kind of accident, and my scheming little brother was about to die.

  Screeching in outrage for getting me to reveal any kind of concern, I charged. “How could you, you little eavesdropper? I’m going to—”

  “No,” Mom said, popping off the bed to catch my arm and prevent me from murdering her son with my bare claws. “No blood on a school night. And Fox just proved my point completely, though he just became grounded for life over scaring the heck out of both of us like that,” she added sharply, giving him a death glare.

  His eyes widened. “And I’m gone,” he announced as he quickly fled the room.

  Mom pointed toward the doorway as she looked at me. “You go too,” she said. “Straight to the Gamble house.”

  I huffed and shook my head. “Fine.”

  This was so stupid and unfair. But I found myself once again marching toward the Gamble house, anyway.

  Even though I knew Fox had been lying, I still needed to check with my own eyes that Beau was okay.

  This time, both his parents were in the front room, curled up on the recliner together, with Aunt Aspen on Uncle Noel’s lap, his arms wrapped around her, and her face resting on his shoulder.