Chapter 2

Ethan called half an hour later.

“Claire, where are you? We’ve been looking everywhere.”

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I went home.”

“You went home?” Relief gave way to irritation. “Why didn’t you tell us? Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

Chloe’s voice came from beside him.

“Seriously, Claire? We’ve been out here looking for you, and you’ve been home this whole time?”

I almost laughed.

“You left me there. Why wouldn’t I go home?”

“We didn’t leave you. We were just—”

“I saw the group chat. You walked off on purpose and agreed not to answer my messages. You wanted to see if I’d cry.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

I thought they might at least feel guilty.

Instead, Ethan turned it around on me.

“You got your old number back?” Ethan asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I sat up.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“You’ve been reading our messages without telling us.”

“It’s my group chat, too.”

“Okay, but Chloe was kidding. You don’t have to turn this into a whole thing.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

A few years ago, a man had followed me home after dark.

Ethan came to get me. By then, I could barely get the words out.

He wrapped his jacket around my shoulders and held me until I stopped shaking.

He’d brushed the tears off my cheeks.

“I’ll never leave you alone again,” he’d promised. “I swear.”

He knew how scared I was to walk alone at night. He’d turned it into a bet anyway.

And now I was somehow the one in the wrong for saying it wasn’t okay.

I ended the call.

The next morning, someone knocked on my bedroom door.

When I opened it, Chloe stood in the hallway with Ethan behind her. He held a small bakery box.

Chloe had already changed into a pretty sundress. Her eyes dropped to the floor.

“I’m sorry about last night. It was a stupid joke. I didn’t think you’d take it that badly.”

“You wanted me to cry.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Claire.” Ethan stepped forward, putting himself between us. “It’s on me. I should’ve told her no. If you’re mad, be mad at me.”

I looked at him standing in front of my sister.

He used to do that for me.

Once, after I’d placed second in a debate tournament, Dad had spent dinner going through everything I could have done better. I’d barely touched my food.

Ethan, who’d been invited over, finally set down his fork.

“She beat thirty other students to get there. Can’t you just tell her she did a good job?”

Another time, a boy at school kept grabbing my backpack and yanking me backward whenever I passed him. Ethan caught his wrist and made him let go.

Later, I’d asked why he always got involved.

He’d smiled.

“Because it’s you. I’m not going to stand there and let someone hurt you.”

Now he was watching me as though I were the one who needed to back off.

He lifted the bakery box.

“I brought you something.”

Inside was a slice of mango cake, topped with glossy pieces of fruit.

“From that place downtown,” he said. “Peace offering?”

I shook my head.

“No, thanks.”

His smile faded.

“Come on, Claire. We came to apologize. What else do you want us to do?”

“I’m allergic to mango.”

He looked down at the cake, his face flushing.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He gave an awkward little laugh. “I keep losing bets to Chloe, and she always makes me buy her this cake. I guess I just ordered it without thinking.”

Without thinking.

He’d remembered exactly what Chloe liked. He’d forgotten what I couldn’t eat.

Before I could answer, Mom appeared behind them.

“What’s going on?”

Chloe said, her voice catching. “We upset Claire last night. We’re trying to make it up to her.”

Mom frowned at me.

“Claire, that’s enough. Your sister’s already apologized. Do you need to make her cry? And after all the time Ethan’s spent helping you study, this is how you treat him?”

She hadn’t even asked what happened. Not that it would have made a difference.

I could explain what had happened and show her the messages. But once Chloe looked close to tears, I was always the one in the wrong.

I said nothing. I was used to it.

My parents worked long hours, and we’d never been the kind of family that talked about our feelings.

I was capable, so they assumed I could handle things. Chloe needed looking after, so they looked after her.

Eventually, even asking for help earned me a “Can’t you handle it yourself?”

But if Chloe wanted something, I was expected to give it up.

Now Mom was rubbing Chloe’s shoulder, blaming me for being cruel to my sister and ungrateful to Ethan.

What she didn’t know was that the two people she was defending had changed my first choice from Westbridge to Eastmere behind my back.

All for a stupid joke.