“Nice one, Science Fair,” Thayer said, the ironic smirk back on his lips. There was a nasty cut over his eye. “Looks like you finally beefed up.”
Ethan’s breath heaved as Ricky let go of his arms. His jeans were smeared with grass stains and dirt. For a moment Emma thought he’d fall on Thayer again. Instead, he turned to her.
“You haven’t changed at all, Sutton,” he spat. “You’re a selfish slut, just like you’ve always been.”
With that he turned and strode across the lawn toward his car.
28
SCENIC OVERLOOK AHEAD
“Ethan, wait!” Emma called, but he didn’t turn around. She hurried down the porch steps and ran after him, ignoring the curious looks of everyone behind her. She stumbled on the flagstones and kicked off her heels in frustration, abandoning them on the grass. Ethan’s beat-up Honda was almost at the gates, since he’d been one of the last people to arrive at the party. She reached the car just as he was getting in and climbed stubbornly into the passenger seat.
The spring-loaded hula girl Ethan kept on his dashboard swayed as he slammed the door. “Stop,” she panted. “I can explain.”
“What is there to explain?” Ethan snarled in disgust. His fists clenched dangerously, as if he wanted to hit something again. In the dark she could see a streak of blood trickling down his forehead into his eye. “You told me not to be jealous, Emma. You said Thayer was Sutton’s thing, not yours. You’re such a liar. As big a liar as your sister was.”
“Don’t you dare say that about my sister!” Emma spat. “And please. You’re one to talk about lying.” She felt completely sober now, her anger filling her with its sharp edges so that everything stood out in clear relief.
“What are you talking about?” Ethan’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel, even though the car wasn’t on. She gritted her teeth.
“I’m talking about the file in the psych ward with your name on it,” Emma said, her voice dangerously calm. “Sound familiar?”
Ethan’s face hardened. “You went? How?”
“Nisha gave me the keycard,” Emma said softly.
He inhaled sharply. “I thought we decided you weren’t going to pry into your mother’s private records.”
“No, you decided that. And you didn’t care about my mom’s privacy, you just didn’t want me to find out about your deep, dark secret. Isn’t that right?” Suddenly, Emma felt drained and hollow, the anger deflating. She blinked back tears. “Ethan, I love you. I shared everything with you. And now it feels like I don’t even know you at all.”
The muted sounds of the party drifted toward them on the cool night air. Crickets chirped hopefully around the car. But inside, everything was deathly silent.
“Did you read my file?” Ethan asked. His voice had gone low and calm. She looked sideways at him. He sat very still, his mouth pulled into a straight, stoic line.
She shook her head. “No. It didn’t feel right.”
The rigidity left his body, his shoulders collapsing helplessly. He shoved his shaggy hair back with one hand. “I should have told you,” he admitted, his lips crumpling miserably. “I wanted to tell you. But it’s not a part of my life I’m proud of, okay?” He slumped back into the driver’s seat, his face twisted in anguish.
Emma stared straight ahead, into the dark knot of mesquite in front of the car.
“This was a couple years ago.” Ethan’s voice was so quiet she had to hold her breath to hear him. “My dad came back to town after a long business trip. The house was a total mess. Mom was too sick to clean, and I was, like, fifteen, so I was kind of useless about housework. Dad flipped out about it. I mean … really flipped out. He started beating the hell out of my mom, pushing her from room to room, shoving laundry into her arms, and throwing dirty dishes at her. In the dining room he broke a broomstick across the backs of her legs, he hit her so hard. He was punishing her for being lazy, he said.” Ethan’s face tilted away into the shadows. “So I clocked him over the head with a beer bottle. I didn’t know what else to do. It didn’t break, but it knocked him down pretty hard. He was out cold for a few minutes. Woke up later with a concussion.”
“Oh my God,” Emma breathed. She reached her hand out and touched Ethan’s arm, but he didn’t move. She knew he was reliving that awful night, in some dark corner of his mind.
“That’s not the most screwed up part. My mom called the cops on me. When they got there I was upset, kind of incoherent about the whole thing, so instead of jail they took me to the hospital. I ended up spending a night strapped to a bed, pumped so full of haloperidol I couldn’t even remember my name. I guess I was lucky—jail would have been much worse. When they evaluated me the next day, they concluded I was acting to defend my mom, and because I was a minor they just dismissed the whole thing out of court. But I had to keep going in for counseling for a year or so.”
“Wait, your mom called the cops?” Emma asked, her chest tightening. “You were just trying to protect her.”
Ethan turned to look at her sadly. “That’s not how she saw it, I guess. No matter how bad things get with my dad, she always takes his side, says she deserves it or whatever.”
In the silence that descended between them, they could hear a crooning R&B ballad piping through the sound system up at the house. Emma took Ethan’s hand in hers and squeezed it hard. His fingers were limp and heavy in hers, as if he’d turned to wood and could not feel her touch.