[Sequel to The Merciless Black List Of Highland High]
Secrets and lies.
The very flesh and bone of the infamous Shameless Foursome guys.
Collin Adamms, the supposed creator of The Shameless Virginity Games, knows what it's like to make mistakes t...
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different light
I'm pretty sure categorizing the feeling that overcomes me as a solid, breath-taking burn in my chest would be accure if I were capable of feeling anything at all. Because that's what happens next. I can't process Cassidy's words, and it causes me to feel so overwhelmed that I don't feel a damn thing.
It doesn't make sense. Her words don't make any damn sense. She can't be telling the truth but if she's joking about something like this, she's even more twisted than I thought.
Rose's whole body is trembling with uncontrollable, painful sobs, drenching the sleeve of Cassidy's soft pink camisole shirt and I feel so out of place, as if I wasn't even really here.
This can't be happening because Collin wouldn't be stupid enough to sit behind the wheel drunk after the car crash with Adam. He wouldn't be risking his life again after all the jabs Cassidy threw at him, after the fight Mrs. Adamms and his father had over his drunk-driving not so long ago. . .
"God, I'm so stupid," Rose chokes out, the heels of her hands pressing against her closed eyes, "I should've told Mom . . . I should've . . . told someone . . . he was drowning . . . and I didn't do anything to help him. . . what kind of sister does that?"
"It's not your fault, Rose." Cassidy says softly, patting Rose's head in reassurance, even though the tears in her own eyes say she might need it more herself than she'd ever care to admit, "We all tried but he wouldn't have it. You know that."
Shaking her head slightly, Rose sniffles. "I could've. . . I could've thrown out his stash . . . talked to him more about it--"
"He'd just go and get himself some new ones. He wouldn't have listened to you."
Their conversation is a lost cause to me. I have no idea what to make out of it, though I want to finally understand what's going on, instead of just standing here, stunned and paralyzed, like a ghost. "What are you talking about?"
Rose keeps her gaze locked on the polished floor under her black combat boots, gnawing at her bottom lip with her teeth in what looks like a painful pattern, so Cassidy has to be the one to take this answer upon herself as well. I don't have to be a mind-reader to gauge that this is hard for her, it's clearly written all over her scrunched up face. Heaving a dreadful sigh, she turns to Rose and mutters, "I'll just be a minute," undoubtedly louder than she intended, then pushes off the chair, and nudges her head toward the hallway. "It's better if we talk in private."
Talking in private has been what I've wanted to do all along, is what I think as she brushes past me, wedge heels thudding against the marbled floor, making me follow after her, though I can't help the shrinking feeling in my stomach once she stops at the nearest corner, and crosses her skinny arms in front of her chest. She's chewing her bottom lip, too, now, which I figure is not a good sign, because as far as my observation reaches, I'm pretty sure this gesture exposes how nervous or frightened of sharing something people really are.
