Page 28 of I Blame the Rival

He huffs out a chuckle, a rusty baritone that sounds like it hasn’t been used in a while. I stare at him, feeling my heart swell with the knowledge that I did that.

I made Skylar laugh.

The edge of my purse brushes my hand and I glance down to see the sunshine tissue peeking out from the silver clutch. Skylar follows my gaze and stills, his eyes locked on the bright piece of material.

“Is that…?”

“Your last message.” I quickly grab the tissue and offer it to him, “Karen stole it from the flowerbed, so I kept it. I hope you don’t mind.”

He leans forward and gently takes it from my hands. Our fingers brush and I pull away, suddenly feeling shy.

“My response is on the back.”

Skylar doesn’t say anything as he turns it over and reads it. I hold my breath, thinking about the words I had written, the ugly truth I left there for him. If he was ever going to turn and run, now would be the time.

Skylar slowly lifts his eyes back to mine and I wait for it. The hounding questions, the look of pity, the awkward change of subject. It happens every time.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

His question catches me off-guard, and it takes me a moment to realize that Skylar is the exception. He isn’t going tointerrogate me and make sure I’m okay like everyone else. He just accepts me for who I am.

Broken pieces and all.

“Yes.” I breathe out the word, knowing this is the pivotal moment I will always look back on.

The night I finally found my friend.

The night I found Skylar.

Skylar

She’s so beautiful it hurts.

I can’t help but sneak glances at her as we walk through the parking lot. Up close, her features are immaculate, the big green eyes framed by thick eyelashes and a smile ready to be released at any moment. I knew she was resilient from her messages, but I hadn’t expected the driving force of her personality.

Even if we hadn’t exchanged notes via therapy, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would have been drawn to her. There’s a darkness that lurks just beneath the surface, the achingly fragile strength of a survivor.

I saw the way she shied away from my touch. The fear in her eyes when she thought I might get too close.

It’s just like my mother.

“Is it okay if I grab something from my car?” I glance over and wait for a nod of confirmation.

“Of course.”

Lacey gives me another smile, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. She has a way of looking at me that makes me feel like the hero I will never be.

And she thinks I’m funny.

Warmth seeps through my chest as I think about her confident response. Nobody likes deadpan humour and yet this girl insists that she does.

No. She said shelovesit.

Punching the button on my keys, I quickly pop the trunk and grab the Saber sweater I’d stashed away earlier. Doing my best not to look awkward, I offer it to her with a shrug.

“Thought you might be getting cold.”

She blinks, a look of pleasant surprise crossing her face, “That’s so thoughtful.”

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