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Sebastian knocked on the door while the rest of us huddled around him. I glanced at Ainsley beside me, wearing one of Sebastian’s old jumpers.

She looked so tiny in my eyes right now, even though I knew logically that she was sixteen. Soon to be a junior in high school. Old enough to drive. And yet, everything that had happened tonight made her look more like a frail little kid. I wondered if I looked the same.

It was Dean’s sister, Nora, who opened the door, but it was Mrs. Graham who insisted on us coming in when she saw us all on the porch. From her pinched expression, I assumed she’d already heard everything coming from our house—just like everyone on the street by now, I was sure.

I mostly zoned out as Sebastian explained that we needed to stay here for a few days if they didn’t mind—barely processing thefew daysbit, the fact that he thought this wouldn’t be over tonight—and as Mrs. Graham found us spare clothes and the blow-up mattresses that we could put in the basement. I didn’t let myself think because I knew the moment that I did, I would break and I absolutely refused to do that here. I would not fall apart again.

Not in front of my sisters, who needed me to seem strong. Not in front of Sebastian, who needed my help to keep ussiblings together. And certainly not in front of Dean, who had already seen the worst of me tonight.

I stayed strong now because I had to.

four

I’d always found sleepingin somebody else’s house difficult—feeling like I was invading someone’s space, never knowing what I was or wasn’t allowed to do, and unable to fully let my guard down. Sleepovers in my life were pretty much nonexistent because of it. So, lying awake on the Grahams’ basement floor that night wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.

Ainsley and Imogen both snored softly beside me, and even though I couldn’t see him on the far air mattress, I imagined that Sebastian was sleeping deeply as well. I was alone in my wakefulness, gripping the borrowed bed sheet draped over me with tight hands and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above.

It had been late by the time we showed up here, and while I thought everyone else would be too wired from Dad’s confession to be able to sleep, they had all crashed almost immediately. We hadn’t even had time to talk about why I was outside with Dad or why he’d chosen tonight to do it. I wasn’t naive enough to think we’d never have the conversation, but I had to admit that I was happy to not have to relive the evening quite yet.

I lay there for a long time before I decided that enough was enough, and I stood up slowly. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go, but I knew that I couldn’t stay here. I got to my feet,wrapped a blanket around my shoulders to cover up my pajama-clad body, and started to creep up the basement stairs.

The hallway was dark when I got to the main floor, but the light over the stove was on, giving me just enough vision to feel like I wouldn’t walk into any furniture. I immediately crossed the kitchen to the sliding door that led onto the back porch and I turned the lock slowly, cringing as a loud click echoed through the kitchen. But thankfully nobody came down thinking that somebody was breaking into the house. Once I figured I was in the clear, I slowly slid the door open. It was even louder than the lock. I froze again, but nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, I tiptoed out. I stepped one foot out the door, then the other, walking onto the cold wooden deck.

My feet were bare and I was dressed only in a skimpy pajama top and shorts—courtesy of Nora, or more likely, Mrs. Graham raiding Nora’s closet—with a blanket wrapped around me. Luckily, it was a warm enough evening that I could be comfortable out here for a while. I slid the door only halfway closed behind me so it wouldn’t be as loud when I opened it again, then sat down on the top step of the deck. I hugged the blanket closer to my chest as I looked across their fence to our backyard. Normally, it had string lights lit up this time of night. Before they all went away for the summer, I had my friends over all the time, sitting around our firepit or in the hot tub, often laughing until my parents told us that it was time to head inside.

Tonight, the yard was dark. I didn’t hear any noises coming from my house, but that didn’t mean much. It didn’t mean the fight was over. It didn’t mean that they’d come to any sort of resolution or decision. All it meant was that they were too tired to keep fighting. I was sure it would pick up again tomorrow. And even though I hated sleeping in somebody else’s house, I was glad I wouldn’t be there to witness it.

“What are you doing out here?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the male voice behind me, and I whipped my head around so fast that my neck cracked. I wasn’t sure who I was expecting—Sebastian after hearing me wake up? Mr. Graham coming to investigate why I was sitting in their backyard?—but it turned out to be Dean towering over me in dim light coming from the kitchen.

Any other night, not that there would ever be a reason for me to sleep over at their house, I probably would have been more worried. I would have scrambled to my feet and come up with some defence about why I was sitting out here like a total creeper. But right now, when I looked at Dean, I wasn’t worried about what he might think of me. And after everything that happened tonight, I didn’t have the energy to lie to him.

“I don’t like sleeping in other people’s houses,” I admitted. His eyes drifted to the side, where my house was standing in the dark. Half the lights were still on inside—the kitchen and living room, Sebastian’s room in the basement, the upstairs bathroom—making the quiet from inside almost eerie.

Dean stepped onto the deck and I realized for the first time that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Only a pair of pajama pants that were sitting so low on his hips that I had to wonder how they weren’t falling right off. They were some blue plaid ones that I was pretty sure every boy in the universe owned, and I found myself staring at them as he came to sit down next to me, his abs on full display. If it were any other night, I probably would have made fun of him for it. Maybe I would have ogled him a little bit. But right now, I had bigger things on my mind.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me and hugged my knees to my chest as I tore my eyes away from him and looked at the swing set in their backyard rocking gently in the wind.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said eventually. I glanced at him, but he was staring out into the dark night instead of looking at me, and I did the same again.

“For what?” I asked. My voice was deceptively calm, even though my heart was hammering in my chest.

“For seeing him.”

I curled in further on myself, pressing my face into my knees like that would be enough to stop me from crying. I didn’t want to think about tonight—not now, not ever.

“I wish I didn’t,” he continued when I didn’t say anything. “I wish I didn’t know.”

“I don’t.”

The words slipped out before I even realized I was thinking them. They probably sounded insane to Dean, especially after the way I’d yelled at him in the parking lot, but now, I was realizing they were true. I didn’t want to wonder how long this had been going on, but I knew it must have been a while. It wasn’t the first time and if Dean hadn’t seen them, it wouldn’t have been the last either.

“I hate that this happened,” I told him, and my voice almost sounded like it didn’t belong to me, like it was somebody else speaking and I was just listening to it. “I hate how it’s all turning out,” I continued, “but I’m not sad that you found out, because she deserves to know.”

He didn’t need me to tell him whoshewas. We both knew.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again.