Page 58 of Sugar Coated Secrets

Every few seconds, he casts a worried glance my way that I purposely ignore. The tension between us stretches, causing myhands to sweat. I check my phone and see a missed text from Katie.

Katie: What does it feel like to be in the same car as one of the most beautiful men on the planet?

Dulce: Hot, cold, and then hot again, but he isn’t talking to me.

Katie: He's likely worried about saying the wrong thing. Danny was upset that you leftwithout him. You have competition, boss lady.

Yeah right.

Dulce: Whatever, not interested.

Katie: You can’t give up because one guy is a douche.

I snort, not realizing I had done it out loud.

“Is everything alright?” Ford asks.

A wave of heat travels up my neck. “Fine,” I say, playing it off.

Dulce: I haven’t met one that isn’t.

Katie: Have faith. I think Ford Keller wants you.

Dulce: You’re reading too much into it.

Katie: Yeah, right. Then why is he offering to buy you shit?

She doesn’t understand that it’s out of guilt.

Many nights, I sat in my room crying myself to sleep, trying to remember anything that night, but I only wake up from a nightmare, reliving it all over again. A faceless man haunts me.

Dulce: I’ll tell you later.

Will I? I’m not sure if I should. I’ve never told anyone what really happened. Obviously, the doctor and nurses who treated me knew. Danny doesn’t know what happened after that night. No one knows the consequences I had to suffer for my silence, and sometimes I think it was done on purpose to make sure I would never forget.

“Are you sure?” Ford asks.

I pocket my phone and reply, “I’m sure.” He stops at a light, and I notice he drives us into the city. I clear my throat. “You know this is unnecessary, right?”

“I’m not following,” he says, but we both know what I mean.

“You don’t owe me anything, Ford,” I say softly. “The past…”

“Dulce…”

“Don’t you mean Betty Cocker?” I shoot back. “It’s what you and your friends called me all the time, isn’t it? Why stop now? It’s like shit. It still stinks after you wipe it off.”

I know it's stupid to bring that up and not accept his help if he is offering it, but I've managed to survive without it. I don’t need his money to bail me out of my problems so he can sleep better at night. The other night, I realized the kiss was guilt-driven. Sometimes I think it must have been a cruel joke to make him feel good about himself because, deep down, they are all monsters.

“I’ve never called you that.”

“But you never told them to stop,” I retort.

What I remember from high school, he would stand next to his friends and watch them do nothing.

The crush I had for him was like a blanket covering the truth.

The light turns green, and a car honks when he takes a second too long to move forward.

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