Page 60 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“And I answered.”

“I’m fine,” I say weakly. “You can go.”

I’m not sure who I’m speaking to—it might be both of them—but Madden takes it personally, storming out the front door that Evan left open. Instead of following him, Evan shuts the door and holds up a bag with a sizable grease spot.

“I bought breakfast,” he says, slightly clipped, and I have to hold in a sigh. I appreciate Evan; I really do. He’s been another piece in the puzzle of me processing what I did, and I needed someone from my old life to help with that. But we’ve never been this close. I guess he thinks he’s being nice, but it’s just making me feel awkward. Does he expect us to be something more because he’s led the way for forgiveness? Will turning him down once and for all mean they all go back to their campaign against me? Not if I’m to believe Madden—he says he wanted the same thing.

The fact that I’m still in bed in only an oversized T-shirt also makes me feel kind of vulnerable. Do I get up and be woefully underdressed, or do I hang out here?

Before I can decide, he brings over two plates and sets himself in the spot Madden vacated. He’s close—really close—but he’s looking at my cheek with worry on his face. After placing the plates on the bed either side of me, he lifts his hand to cup my jaw, tracing the slice with his thumb.

“How’s it feeling?” he asks gently, and I suppress a shudder.He’s just being friendly, Harper.

“It’s fine.”

“What was Madden doing here?” he asks, and I blink in confusion at the abrupt change in subject.

“I think he was just checking I was okay.”

He scoffs with more bitterness than I would have expected from him two weeks ago. Now, it seems to be his other personality.

“Is he not a bit late with that? After making sure youhaven’tbeen okay since you started here?” I blanche, trying to pull back gently, but he doesn’t let up, his thumb pressing harder into my cheek until I hiss and turn my face away.

“I seem to have forgiven you for that, haven’t I?”

He looks appalled. “Me? I never took part in any of that, Harper. In fact, I told Madden to cut it out, many times, but he was set on punishing you.” My eyelids flutter quickly as I work to blink away the stinging moisture I can feel there. I didn’t know that. I’d assumed they’d both hated me.

“Why? You were there that night. If anyone hated me, it should’ve been you.”

“I was there, and I was at the party. I know how messed up you were, and I know you, Harper—you never would’ve driven without the alcohol and drugs in your system.” I shake my head, even as it’s clasped in his palm still. I’ve never done drugs before in my life. “Look, it’s upsetting you. Don’t waste any more thought on him or that night, okay?”

Wait, how did this get back to Madden? He’s not the one upsetting me. Or is he? I can’t think straight, thoughts niggling at the back of my head but all competing for focus. I just want to sleep.

“He doesn’t care about you, Harper, not really. Not like I do. Where was he when you were alone? Where was he when they did this to you?” His thumb presses into my cheek again, and this time, I try not to wince. “Forget Madden,” he says softly, and for once, I really wish I could. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Madden

Mondayrollsaround,andI’m still furious. The fact Evan didn’t come home at all hasn’t helped. She told me to go, but she let him stay? I guess that’s what you do with your boyfriend. Even thinking the word makes bile rise in my throat. I hate it.

I’m not happy for them, not for a second. I should be—Harper deserves to be happy, and Evan is my best friend—but I can’t stand the thought of her with anyone. Anyone but me.

My mood must be worse than normal, because no one dares to talk to me, letting me sit quietly while they all murmur around me. Bethany runs up, excitement practically vibrating out of her. She throws herself on the bench next to me and rests her hand on my thigh, which I promptly remove. Before, I barely registered her constant touching. Now, I hate having her hands on me.

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything, her excitement clearly distracting her from the rejection.

“Looks like we didn’t need to be trying that hard,” she preens, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Harper got rid of herself, in the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bark, and she turns her grin back to me.

“Someone reported her for possession, and they ran a drug test, which she promptly failed.” What? Harper had drugs on her? There’s no way.

“Who reported it?”

She shrugs as if it’s not important, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Bethany opens her mouth—probably to boast some more—but the double doors on the other side of the courtyard open and Evan walks out, Harper tucked into his side. I bolt up and stride over to them, making Harper jump.

“What’s going on?” I demand.

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