Page 210 of Tell Me Something True

Titus gave him a doggy side-eye.

Yeah, yeah. He was a fucking liar. So what?

Better that than admitting he was amped up over some girl he’d never even kissed.

It would be easy, so fucking, pathetically easy, to blame her for his restlessness. His edginess. His thoughts of her.

But that was too close to how his old man acted. Blaming everyone and everything for his shitty life. Taking his bitterness and anger out on others. Hurting them to make himself feel better.

When it came to Verity, he was constantly doing things he shouldn’t. Saying things best kept quiet. Making the wrong choices over and over again.

But he wouldn’t do that.

He wouldn’t blame Verity for his own weaknesses, he vowed, putting the truck into Drive and pulling out onto the street.

He wouldn’t turn into Pete Walsh. Wouldn’t be like him in any way.

No matter what.

***

There were certain things that only happened in the TV and the movies:

Like racing through the airport to stop your true love from boarding the flight that was going to take them away from you forever, or the villain giving a fifteen-minute monologue telling the hero every aspect of their brilliant plan, or someone showing up at midnight and tossing pebbles at their love interest’s window.

Or so Verity had believed.

She’d been wrong.

Because someone was tossing handful after handful of pebbles at her window right now.

Which was super weird as she didn’t even have a love interest.

But the moment she thought that was also the exact moment she knew, somehow, and without so much as glancing outside, who was doing that tossing.

Another handful of tiny rocks hit its target, ping, ping, pinging against the glass. Bella, taking up more than her fair share on Verity’s bed, lifted her head. Looked at Verity, one eyebrow raised.

Or at least, the dog version of that questioning look.

“Don’t look at me,” she grumbled. “I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

She considered, briefly but with great delight, turning off her lamp, pulling the covers over her head, and ignoring him until he gave up and went away.

“I’m only doing this to make sure it really is who I think it is,” she told Bella as she slid to the edge of the bed. “In case it’s not. Him, I mean. Which would actually be more worrisome than if it is him, you know?”

Bella, it seemed, did not know. Nor was she the least bit concerned. She just hopped off the bed, raced over to the window, lifted her front paws onto the sill and pressed her nose against the pane.

And barked.

“Shhh,” Verity hushed, hurrying over. “You’re not helping.”

She tugged her dog down, but Bella hopped those two front paws right back up so that Verity had to muscle her way next to her so she, too, could peer outside.

The pinging had stopped, but beyond their reflection, all she saw was dark, dark, and more dark.

And then something… someone… moved by the crabapple tree, their shape more shadow than person. Squinting, she cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed them to the glass when the soft glow of a cell phone lit up.

She’d been right.

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