Jerk! Imbecile! Moron! “But that’s not all!” I blurted. “You know it isn’t. What about Blake Winter—Wilder—your own cousin?”

“Blake? How much has he told you?”

“You tried to get him fired. You’re a jealous, attentionseeking jerk who would try to undermine his own cousin, just so you could have what you wanted, just to make sure no one shared your spotlight.”

“Wow! So that’s what you think of me?” Taylor shook his head. “You don’t really know what’s going on, and you don’t even care. You know why? Because you’re a fraud, Chloe Hart. Yep. You go ahead and stand there and think how much better you are than the popular crowd, but you know what? You’re just as bad as they are. We both know that you’d rather die than admit the only thing stopping you from going out with me is that I’m popular. The next time you’re out somewhere flinging accusations at people, check your double standard first.”

“My double standard?” Look in the mirror, buddy! I stormed up to the swing. It was the only thing separating us as I looked up into his face. “Taylor, you are the most conceited, rudest, most arrogant boy I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. I would never in a million years go out with you. Even if you had never hurt Blake or Alyssa, you’d still be a smug, manipulating jock with no regard for anybody else’s feelings. Never mind morp and getting me to ask you just—just so you could humiliate me. When I first moved here I saw what a complete jerk you were, thinking you owned everything and everyone. Well, you don’t own me, and you never will. I deserve someone much better than you!”

The air positively crackled as the hollow reminder of my words echoed around us. Taylor slowly scanned my face, his eyes a dull gray. I cannot begin to imagine what emotions he saw there.

He took a step back and then another from the swing that separated us. Then he paused before nodding briefly. “Thank you, Chloe. It’s nice to know what someone really thinks of you. Sorry for wasting your time.”

And then Taylor Darcy Anderson walked away. 

Nineteen

A Different Side

I collapsed into the swing after Taylor was gone, completely bereft of emotion and energy. And then I did what any sensible girl would do in my situation—I leaned my head against the hand holding the swing chain and cried.

It was some time later that I realized how cold I was. Grasping the chains, I lifted myself off the swing. My limbs felt stiff so I wrapped my jacket closer, then stomped to get the blood moving in my legs and feet. With one deliberate step at a time, I slowly made my way back across the sand and onto the concrete sidewalk, then across the street to my house. Down the street to my right I could see Alyssa’s and Madison’s homes. The sun seemed to happily bounce off them, and they represented a beacon of comfort I couldn’t indulge in at present. I walked the rest of the twenty or so yards to my front door with a determination to get on with my day.

The next day, Sunday, my mother saw my peaked and weary face and told me to go back to bed. The rest of the family went to church without me. Before they left, my dad came into my room to see how I was doing. He brought his laptop with him and told me not to tell Mom.

“It’s just so you won’t get cabin fever while we’re gone,” he teased, and then after a moment, he added, “Yesterday, I saw the Anderson boy’s sports car in front of our house for a while. It wouldn’t have anything to do with your hiatus to the park yesterday morning, would it?”

“Well, yeah, it did,” I answered. In a roundabout way.

“Is that boy sweet on you?”

I looked down and shook my head. “Not anymore.” My finger rubbed along the soft nose of the bear I was holding.

“Kicked him to the curb, did ya?” He chuckled.

I tried to smile. “Yeah.”

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?” I looked up at my dad.

“Listen here. I’m not going to make some big speech about popular boys and the nuisance they are, because thankfully you’ve got a better head on your shoulders than that. I know you’re smart enough to make your own decisions, without your dad buggin’ you about them. But there is one thing.”

“Okay?”

Dad took a deep breath. “Don’t go judging people on what you hear alone. I hope you always give every boy who comes here a fair chance to prove himself to you.” He raised his hands. “Now, I’m not saying anything about that Anderson fellow. I don’t know what happened. And by the look of you the past twenty-four hours, I don’t think I want to.” He walked over to my dresser and leaned against it. “But in saying that, I have to point out that Taylor’s a good boy. I’ve seen him around this town helping many folks. And as far as I can see he does it in his free time, too. I’ve personally witnessed him doing everything from shingling widows’ roofs to mowing the lawn at the homeless shelter. He even organized and ran the city’s trash pickup last summer while you were practicing for your play.

“Every time I’ve seen that boy, there’s a smile on his face, until yesterday when he got into his car and drove off. Again, I’m not trying to interfere here. I’m sure you’ve got reason enough to do what you did. Actually, I know you do. You’re a good girl. I’m just saying that if ever you do change your mind, no one’s gonna judge you for it.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at my dad as he rose from the dresser. “Well, I’m off to church. Don’t go all crazy on me now, you hear?” He laughed at his attempt at a joke.

“Thanks, Dad.” I smiled back at him, a little perplexed.

I watched as he winked at me and then shut the door halfway behind him. Then I looked down at the laptop on the end of my bed and smiled ruefully. My daddy loves me.

I really wasn’t feeling well, and I wasn’t quite sure I even wanted to touch the computer. But I was wide awake. All I could think about was that conversation with Taylor. There were so many more things I wished I’d said—and so many I wished I hadn’t. My dad kind of siding with Taylor didn’t make sense to me, either. I mean my dad was an amazing judge of character, and I was surprised he saw Taylor in the same light as the rest of the town.

After about thirty minutes, I couldn’t take the solitude of the house anymore. I flipped open the laptop and let it boot up. I decided to check my email and maybe send a few messages to the people I’d neglected lately.

I was writing a thank-you email to Jordan and Kate when I received a message in my inbox. It was from Taylor. Oh my gosh! How did he get my email address?

Then I remembered the school website contained a list of students’ email addresses—everyone who didn’t mind being part of a public listing, that is. I had put mine on there a couple of years ago. Now that I thought about it, I could’ve probably gotten Taylor’s email address the same way. Not that I needed to—his email address was staring right at me: ta2h0t2hndl@gmail.com.

I was loath to read his email, yet so curious I couldn’t help myself. My heart sped up as I clicked on it. The subject simply read, “Yesterday.”

Once the email loaded, I scanned it and was shocked at how long it was. I settled back against my pillows and the headboard of my bed, then brought the PC closer to rest on my crossed legs. I read through the letter once and then, agitated, read the whole thing again.


From: Taylor Anderson ta2h0t2hndl@gmail.com

Subject: Yesterday


Chloe


Hi. Before you read more, I just wanted to say, don’t be worried that this email is in any way me begging to be with you again. I wouldn’t want to disgust you more. It’s obvious that you’re not into me.

I’ve thought back on our argument yesterday and wanted to email you about the reasons why you’re so mad at me. I think an explanation is needed. I realize now that you never really knew me, or took the time to get to know me. That leads perfectly into your accusations about Blake. My cousin is not the perfect guy you seem to think he is. In fact he’s more a villain than a hero. During high school, Blake was always caught doing something. Drugs, drinking, stealing—you name it, he did it. Then a year ago, Blake went on trial in Colorado for drugging a fifteen-year-old girl and then taking advantage of her. He was eighteen at the time, and she was a minor. The trial went on for a while but nothing was ever proven. Blake got off scot-free, and my family tried their best to keep it under wraps and just forget the whole thing. But no one in Boulder would give him a chance. So his mom (my dad’s sister) called and begged my dad to give Blake a job and a place to live. Hence the job at the hotel, which includes room and board.