chapter twenty-six-3

His jaw was clenched, the muscles twitching beneath the skin, but after a moment, he slowly leaned closer to me, his voice soft, and there was something lingering underneath it, a shift I couldn't quite recognize. "He was my friend. I don't even remember meeting him, he was just always my friend. And I thought I knew him better than anyone." I waited in the silence, let Kolby continue. "I was there, at that party. I was downstairs, on my phone, and I see this guy taking a girl upstairs. And I just go back on my phone." "You saw—?" "I thought it was Brandon," he told me, his voice small and broken, the whites of his eyes beginning to tinge red before he looked away from me, coughed, and then swallowed. "He'd said he might show up later. I thought it had to be him because it couldn't be Griffin. I knew something was off, and I just went and played a stupid game on my phone while . . ." "You told me about that." He nodded, forcing a small, choked laugh. "You'd think I would've noticed, right? I would've been able to recognize him or you. The only reason I went was because Griffin said you'd be there, then it becomes so stupidly obvious that you guys were on a date. And I remembered all those little things that were so clearly wrong, but no. I noticed nothing. My best friend raped my girlfriend and I—" he scoffed, shaking his head as his voice deepened, "I couldn't even tell." I wasn't completely sure of what to say to him, or what to even think, but before I could come up with a response, the principal's door opened and our parents came out to tell us that we had detention for the next two weeks. "Getting into fights at school? Really, Clara?" my mother was saying to me as we trudged through the slush-covered parking lot, pausing between words as she fished through her purse for her keys, making a muffled jingling sound. I shrugged. "I didn't get into a fight, Mom. It just kind of happened around me, and I—" "Hit Kolby Rutledge on the head with a textbook," she retorted, glancing up for a moment to glare at me. I shrugged again as she sighed, turning back to her purse. "What was that about anyway? I thought you two were going out." "I don't think we are anymore." She stopped walking, her hand still deep in her purse but the rummaging temporarily paused. "What? Did he break up with you because of what people have been saying?" "No. I mean, we haven't actually broken up or anything—like, no one's said it—but when I told him about Griffin and everything, he didn't take it that well." She was still looking at me, sadness softening her focused gaze, and I waved a hand through the air, trying to brush it off. "You were right anyway. Dating the best friend of the guy my sister killed was a bad idea." My mom hesitated, retracting her hand from her purse—fingers now clutched around her keys—and looked as if she were about to say something when she suddenly glanced over my shoulder. "Is that Bex?" she asked, and I turned around. There, sitting on the last concrete step in front of the school, was Bex on her phone. Then, before I knew what was happening, my mom was waving her hand in the air, calling out, "Hi, Bex!" "Mom!" I hissed as Bex looked up, glancing around the parking lot before she saw my mom and me standing near the handi- capped parking spaces, her brow creasing. Mom was smiling, still waving. "I haven't seen her in forever! How come you girls don't hang out anymore?" "Same reason Kolby and I don't date anymore." My mom blinked, turning to me and dropping her hand. "Wait, you—" "Hi, Mrs. Porterfield." Before I even realized Bex had got up from where she was sitting a moment ago, she was standing in front of us, an awkward smile going back and forth between my mom and me. "It's nice to see you again." "It's really nice to see you again too, Bex," she said, and I almost rolled my eyes. "Clara told me you have the lead in the musical this year. That must be really exciting!" "I probably only got it because Clara didn't want it," she said, laughing. "You didn't want it? I thought you auditioned." "Not exactly," I answered reluctantly. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her I'd missed the audition deadline and only accepted a background role because I'd thought Bex was being abused by Wilson Westbrooke, which I was wrong about. I also really couldn't tell her that in front of Bex. She looked at me for a few seconds before she turned back to Bex, her smile reappearing. "Did you need a ride home? You were just sitting on that step over there, and it's a little cold outside." I shot my mom a withering look. Bex shook her head. "No, it's okay. My boyfriend's going to drive me home. Thanks, though." "You have a boyfriend?" My mother grinned teasingly at her. "That's exciting! Do we know him? Is he from the musical too?"