Page 20 of The Masks We Wear

Stop.

She opens and clamps her mouth shut twice, her eyebrows knitting together so tight they almost touch. “Okay, you inept jerk. I’m not changing for anybody. I just want to have some fun. What crawled up your butt and died?”

I can’t stop the irritation from boiling over in my stomach. Why does everyone feel the need to change? And not only that, but lie about it, when it can’t be any more obvious?

“Remy, I’ve known you long enough and seen the shit in your closet to know better than to believe the lie you’re pushing. What’s next? Dye your hair blonde? Start wearing heels to school?”

You’re being a fucking asshole. Stop.

But I can’t. The words ooze from my mouth like a toxin, ready to claim any victim in the vicinity. Then I remember a brief moment at school when Blaze said something to her as he passed by. I didn’t think enough of it to ask, but now, things are making more sense. “Let me guess. Blaze? Is that who it is?”

Her sad eyes widen, confirming my accusation and a wave of anger I’ve never felt before surges through, consuming me in its power.Blaze. He’s Lily’s right hand—has been since eighth grade, I hear. He’s probably the reason Lily is the way she is. And now he wants to take Remy away too?

Fuck that.

“He doesn’t like you. Whatever shit he’s spitting, it’s because he wants to dive in your pussy and claim another notch on his belt. Not because he actually wants something with you. Are you really that stupid?”

Remy’s eyes shine under a wall of tears, and I immediately deflate. She rips the apron off her waist and throws it at me, twisting on her heels. “Close up by yourself tonight. And when you’re ready to apologize for projecting your anger, you know where to find me.”

I stumble around the corner, her name caught in my throat. A panic ensues, trapping me from saying what I need to.

Fuck.

I didn’t mean to.I’m sorry.

Don’t leave me too.

The door slams behind her, halting my pursuit, leaving me with the void of her absence. It wraps around me, whispering just what I am.

A fucking dick.

IHAVEto ring the bell twice with my foot before I hear a rustling behind the door. Steadying the pile of books in my arms, I peer to the side when Remy opens it. It’s noon on a Sunday, but from the looks of it, I woke her up. Her dark hair is in disarray, matted to one side and flat on the other. Bags highlight both eyes she is currently rubbing, adjusting to the outside light.

Pajamas hang loosely on her tiny frame, and I breathe easy for the first time since last night before our fight.

There’s my Remy.

She finally takes in the massive pile I’m balancing and gasps. “You bought everything on my to-be-read list? That’s like two dozen books!”

“Twenty-eight,” I correct.

“Oh, my gosh, Spencer. I would have accepted just a verbal apology.”

I twist my hips, pretending I’m going to walk off. “So you don’t want them?”

Her hands jerk out, grabbing half the stack before I even have a chance to move a muscle. “I didn’t say that. Come in.”

A smile takes up my entire face, relief washing over me.

Trailing behind her, I notice the house is darker than usual. The entryway curtains are drawn, drowning the bright foyer in shadows. The open kitchen and living room are the same.

She reads my face and juts her chin out toward the back of the living room. “My dad’s home. Don’t worry. He can sleep through a freight train, but not light.”

I nod, and follow her up the stairs, still consciously making an effort to keep my steps quiet. We enter her pink room, and she immediately starts sorting the books on her bed, humming to herself as she reads the backs. She bounces on her heels, and for a second, I wish I could pilfer some of that happiness. Bottle it up and take it with me.

“Not going to brush your teeth first?” I joke, falling into my usual place on the bubblegum futon.

Remy turns, narrowing her eyes. Lifting my hands in surrender, I chuckle. I’m just glad she’s receptive. I lean forward on my knees, tilting my head, and leveling my voice. “I really am sorry about last night.”

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