A few minutes later, when I was back in the guest room, I pulled out the bottle of Margaritaville. I stared at it for a long moment, thinking of finishing off the last little bit. It would be nice to get buzzed right now. It would make me laugh and smile. Like Nathan said, I was fun when I was drunk.

I thought of Bailey, of how I hadn’t protected her. I thought of Nathan’s hand reaching across the linoleum table at the diner, his fingers covering mine. I cared about Bailey and Nathan cared about me. This wouldn’t make things with Dad any better. This wouldn’t make me forget. It would just hurt them. And I didn’t want to hurt them. Not more than I already had.

I carried the bottle into the bathroom, checking to make sure the hallway was clear first. I poured out the last few drops of tequila, watching as the only thing that had made me happy over the past few years trickled down the drain. Going, going… gone.

CHAPTER 21

I didn’t leave the house at all over the next week. I spent most of my time locked in the guest room or watching Bailey practice her cheers. Occasionally, Harrison would come over and hang out, but we never went to the Nest or parties or anything after the Fourth of July.

But that didn’t stop people from posting on the Facebook page.

Nathan usually wouldn’t let me look on his computer, but sometimes I’d sneak into his room when he had run downstairs. He had a bad habit of leaving his computer on, and he was always logged on to Facebook.

Pictures from Harrison’s party; speculations of what I’d do next; insults about my clothes, my hair, the size of my ass. Everything. And Dad was tagged in so much of it. Tagged one day, untagged the next. And still not a word to me. Not that I expected it anymore.

Every time I saw him in the house, every time he asked me to pass the rolls at dinner, every time he called during a break at work to ask Nathan to pick something up at the grocery store and I answered the phone—I wanted to scream every time. To throw things. To ask him why he loved them more than me. But I held it in. I didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

He must have been counting down the days until I left, until it could just be him and his perfect family and he could go back to pretending I didn’t exist.

As angry as I was, part of me didn’t blame him.

I stood in the living room and watched them through the screen door. Sherri was visiting for the afternoon. She and Sylvia sat in lawn chairs, drinking lemonade while Dad and Nathan played one-on-one basketball in the driveway. Bailey was doing back handsprings in the grass, as if she were a cheerleader at a big game.

Sherri and Sylvia clapped and laughed as Nathan threw the ball into the hoop above the garage, sinking it perfectly. Dad’s lips were moving quickly, clearly arguing that, somehow, that shot hadn’t been fair.

I felt like I was watching a home movie. A good one. It was like you could see the joy and the love. They were palpable.

Nathan saw me standing in the doorway. He raised a hand and waved, gesturing for me to join them.

But I shook my head.

I ran upstairs before anyone else could turn around and see me.

Later, after dinner, Nathan followed me into the guest room. “Why didn’t you come outside earlier?”

I sighed and sat down on my bed. “I had a stomachache.”

He frowned at me. “Really, Whit?”

“Whitley,” I corrected automatically.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “About the stomachache.”

“I just didn’t want to, okay?”

That wasn’t entirely a lie.

The truth was that I hadn’t wanted to ruin it. Dad and the Caulfields were perfect together. They were a family. A beautiful family. More of a family than Mom, Dad, Trace, and I had been, even before the divorce. Nathan and Bailey had both tried to make me feel welcome, but I still didn’t belong. I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit.

Nathan watched me for a long moment. Then he sat down on the bed next to me, one arm curving around my shoulders. I couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant to be platonic or romantic. I couldn’t tell which I wanted it to be.

“Well, I hate for you to miss out on all the fun,” he said. “So why don’t you join Bailey and me for movies tonight?”

“Nathan…”

“I want you to,” he said firmly. “And so will she.”

I forced a smile. “Okay. But I’m not watching Bring It On again.”

“Damn. I am just so heartbroken by that,” he joked.

I tried to call Trace after Nathan had gone, but I only got his voice mail.

Trace had a family now, too. A gorgeous wife and daughter. A family of his own. One I wasn’t part of.

And no matter whose fault it was, Mom and I hadn’t been a family in a long time.

I didn’t know who I was without the parties or drinking or boys that had been my life for the past four years. I had nothing. No one. I didn’t know where I belonged anymore.


“You have one unheard message…. First unheard message.”

“Whitley, it’s your mom. I haven’t heard from you in a while, and I just wanted to check in. Trace says he’s talked to you a few times, but I haven’t, so… give me a call? I miss you, honey. I hope you’re having fun…. But listen, if anything’s going on with your father, you can let me know and—”

“Message deleted.”


“Physics?”

“No. No science.”

“Politics?”

“No.”

“Psychology?”

“I’m too screwed up to be a psychologist.”

“Oh, what about Russian? Russian could be cool.”

I looked at Harrison over the top of my sunglasses. We were lying in lawn chairs by the pool. The UK course catalog was in Harrison’s lap, and he’d flipped to the list of majors.

“Russian? Really, Harrison?”

“I took Russian in high school,” Nathan said, climbing out of the pool. He’d decided to swim laps that afternoon instead of going to the gym.

“Did you?” Harrison asked, grinning at him.

“Yeah.” Nathan grabbed his towel from the little patio table and began dabbing at his face. “But the only thing I remember is, Mozhno li kopirovat vashi domashnie zodaneeye?”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You just asked me where the bathroom is, right?”

“No.” He scoffed, flicking his wet towel at me. “I was beyond that basic stuff. I took two years of it. Give me some credit.”

“Then what does it mean?” I asked.

“It means, ‘Can I copy your homework?’ ”

Harrison laughed, as if this were the funniest thing in the world. I just smiled and shook my head. “Did you say that a lot?” I asked Nathan.

“Every morning before class started.” He grinned at me before slinging the towel over his shoulder. “All right. I’m heading inside. You two have a good time.”

“Have a nice night, Nathan!” Harrison called out. We both watched him go, and when the screen door closed, Harrison added quietly, “Now, I would major in that.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying.” He looked down at the catalog again. “We’re almost at the end of the list, Whitley. Unless you want to look in the Engineering school—but I’m assuming you don’t.”

“Definitely not.”

“You like music,” he said. “Ever thought of majoring in it?”

I cringed. Theo was a music major. That night, I’d even said I might consider it. Now I knew I never would.

“I don’t play anything,” I told Harrison. “Besides, I don’t think you study Nirvana or Blondie or the Ramones in college. I’d get bored with all the classical shit.”

“Fashion?”

“UK doesn’t have a fashion school.”

“Come out to L.A. with me, then,” he said. “Be my roommate, and I’ll dress you every day. You know you want to.”

That actually didn’t sound too bad. Trace was in Los Angeles. And the whole reason I’d picked UK was because it was Dad’s alma mater. I always thought I wanted to be like him. Not so much anymore.

“I can’t. UK’s already been paid.”

Harrison sighed. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. Any ideas what you want to do after college? What makes you happy?”

That was the million-dollar question. Because I honestly had no idea. Drinking had made me happy, but there wasn’t a major in alcoholism, to the best of my knowledge.

When I didn’t answer, Harrison changed the subject. “Hey, I’m going out with Wesley and Bianca tonight. Want to join us so I don’t have to be a third wheel?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think his girlfriend likes me too much,” I said.

“Bianca? Why do you think that?”

“Because the first time she met me I was trying to seduce her boyfriend. Pretty sure that pissed her off a little.”

Harrison laughed. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first. But she’ll get over it. Come out with us. Dinner, a movie, maybe a little happy hour at my place afterward? No extra guests this time. Just the four of us.”

“No, I… I think I’d rather stay in.”

“Whitley,” he said, frowning. “You’ve stayed in every night since the party at my place. Have you even left the house? Been to the grocery store? Anything?”

I didn’t answer.

“What happened with Theo isn’t going to happen again,” he said quietly. “I promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“It’s not that… not just that. Look, I don’t want to go out, okay? I’m sorry.”

He studied me for a while longer, his green eyes narrowing, dark eyebrows pulled together just a little. Then, finally, he nodded. “Fine. Okay, let’s see what other majors are listed here…. Oh, sociology?”