Page 82 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“She was attacked.”

He winces. “Dude, I know. It wasn’t us, though.”

“You two left her there and broke her phone.”

He points at me. “Trent broke her phone.”

“You should have gone to jail for what you both did.”

His reaction grates on my nerves, and I want nothing more than to pummel him to the ground until he stops breathing.

“For a prank?” He taps his temple. “Are you listening to yourself? We pulled pranks all the time. How is it our fault? Let’s be honest, Ford. How could she have believed you wanted to take her to prom? Honestly, you never spoke to her, and you didn't care who said anything to her. No one did.”

“She got hurt.” The words escape my clenched teeth.

He rolls his eyes, and I want to stab him. “Obviously. We didn’t run. We spoke to the cops. My parents hired lawyers. Trent’s parents did the same. You know how it all works. It’s the same thing your parents would have done if you were involved, like you getting Summer pregnant.”

“Leave Summer out of this.”

He chuckles. “Still got a soft spot for her.”

“You know better than that.”

He knows I give two shits about Summer.

He shakes his head. Slowly. “Summer loved you, man.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“So what… You came back here and found out something fucked up happened to the bullied girl from high school you always had a soft spot for? What do you think you are going toaccomplish snooping around town, digging for shit that no one can find?”

“The truth.”

“I told you the truth. I’m not hiding what I did. Not from you.” He takes a drag—"the cops. Trent isn’t either, no matter how many times you beat the shit out of him.”

He knows I’m not fucking around. I watch his mannerisms. I noticed how different he was from the guy I grew up with. He’s different. Something changed him.

“What happened to you, Chris?”

“What do you mean?” he asks like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I look around, waving at the room. “Why are you here? What happened at college?”

“It wasn’t for me.”

“And this is?”

He nods. “I never wanted to go to college. It was my so-called mom’s idea.”

“You did, but I don’t think this is what you had in mind.”

“You sound just like her.” He leans back and looks around the living room that currently looks like a crack shack. “She said the same thing when she came to visit me.”

I had never heard him call his mother like that. Granted, she is like my own mother and every rich woman who married well-off. She lifts her nose when she walks around town as if her shit doesn't stink, but she isn't a bad person. She couldn’t have kids, and I bet the last thing she ever thought when she adopted Chris was that he would end up like this. A drug-addicted fuckup who uses.

“What’s your plan?” I ask, knowing he doesn’t have one.

“What’s yours?” he fires back.

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