Happenstance 2 (Happenstance #2)(18)
Author: Jamie McGuire

Her first entry in October made my blood run cold.

My hands began to tremble, and I slammed the binder shut, leaving it on the floor with the others. My mattress barely made a sound as I crashed into it, burying my head in the pillow. As much as I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, Alder wouldn’t lie in her own journal. The Erins were planning one last twisted, humiliating moment for me before graduation, and Weston was going to help them. The picture he’d drawn of me, the necklace, the attention and phony kindness were all part of the plan to disgrace me in front of the entire school.

My pillow was soaked with tears. After everything they had put me through, how could I have been so gullible? How could I have trusted that Weston had suddenly taken an interest in me for no reason? The nights at the overpass, the late-night talks, losing my virginity…It was all part of the plan. Maybe it wasn’t his idea, but he was going along with it, and Alder was only pretending to be jealous because she knew it wasn’t real. And even if it was, she didn’t care. She was secretly planning to be with Eric anyway.

I kept trying to make excuses for Weston, trying to think of anything that would make him an innocent bystander, but it was all there in her journals. One last stab at me, even after her death. No wonder Weston didn’t want me to read them. He knew exactly what I would find.

Why stay with me after Alder died? Why continue the charade? And then it hit me: he had asked me to prom. He was going to carry out her plan. He was in love with her, and he was determined to carry out her final wish.

How malicious would someone have to be to agree to and go through with something like that? I knew the Erins were evil, but Weston…That’s what Brady meant before. He knew what Weston was doing. I had given myself to someone like that. Let him touch me. Put his mouth on me. Penetrate me.

I ran to the bathroom, pulled the necklace away from my skin, threw it in a drawer, and then stripped off my clothes. The knob whined as I twisted it, and the water rained down. I stepped in when it was still ice-cold, desperate to get any trace of Weston off of me. I stood under the water as it warmed, scrubbing and sobbing, feeling utterly destroyed and beyond betrayed.

My skin felt raw and waterlogged, so I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around me. A faint knock on my bedroom door made me stiffen. Julianne poked her head in, and her face fell.

“Gracious, sweetheart, you look exhausted. Did you get any sleep?”

“I’m awake,” I said. “Wide awake.”

Chapter 8

SAM AND JULIANNE MET ME IN THE KITCHEN an hour before the first bell would ring at school. They both had concerned expressions, coffee mugs in hand.

“I know I said I wanted to spare Sam the details, but…,” Julianne began. She didn’t have to finish. I could see on Sam’s face that he knew what we did.

“I’ve been trying to think of something to say to you to make you feel better. Dads are supposed to be wise, but when you’re the one who raised the person responsible…” He trailed off, recoiling from his own thoughts.

“Sam, this isn’t your fault,” I said. “It’s not Julianne’s fault. It’s a brutal, ongoing cycle.”

He walked around the island and put his arm around my shoulders. “You make it very easy to forget I’m talking to a high schooler. I’m supposed to make you feel better, not the other way around.”

“Would it help if I said this sucks?”

He offered a small smile. “No, not after what Julianne said was in those journals. But thanks for trying.”

“Clearly upbringing has nothing to do with behavior,” Julianne said, rubbing her forehead. “You’re such a sweet, kindhearted person, Erin. Even after everything you’ve been through.”

“What are you going to say to Weston?” Sam asked, pushing up his glasses. The subtle hump on his nose failed to keep them where they belonged.

“You know about that too?” I asked, surprised.

“Julianne told me this morning. She wanted me to know what had upset you so much.”

I glanced up at Julianne, her white sweater making her look like the angel she was. “Did I wake you?”

“I was already awake. I’ve never heard you cry that way. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone cry that way. I had to know. I didn’t mean to pry, Erin, but it seemed too important to ignore.”

Three quick knocks on the door, and then we heard Weston’s voice, muffled by the door. “Erin?” he called, his nervousness evident.

I looked to Sam.

He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

His footsteps echoed down the travertine-tiled hallway, and then the murmuring began.

“Just let me talk to her,” Weston said, his voice raised. “I can explain.”

Sam kept his voice low.

“What do you mean she doesn’t want to see me? Erin?” he called again. “Erin!”

“Weston.” Sam’s voice was strained, but firm.

Julianne’s eyes widened when a scuffle could be heard, and she rushed to the front door as well. I ducked my head and rested it in my hands.

“Stop!” Julianne said.

Their voices quieted, but the desperation in Weston’s voice could still be distinguished.

The door closed, and Sam and Julianne returned to the kitchen, both with stunned expressions.

“What was that?” I asked.

Sam sighed. “He wanted to come inside.”

“Did he push you?” I asked, swallowing. Apparently I didn’t know Weston at all.

Sam shook his head, clearly unsettled. “No, no…He pushed the door. I pushed back. He’s just upset. I told him you could discuss it later, but not to bother you at school. Want me to call Mr. Bringham?”

I shook my head. “Please don’t. I just want this to go away.”

“Why don’t you take the day off with me? We can go shopping. Or stay home and watch comedies On Demand.” Julianne’s contrived smile was oddly comforting. She was hurting for me, and so was Sam. Empathy wasn’t something I was used to, but there was nothing like it. Our family felt complete and real in that moment, and for the first time, I felt I belonged there in that kitchen, with the two people who loved me enough to stay up all night worrying, push against a door, and call the principal. I belonged with them because I belonged to them.

I hopped up and squeezed them both in a tight embrace. “Just a few more weeks. I can get through a few more weeks.”