Accidental Witness (Morelli Family 1)

Those fantasies lead to more tears and no more sleep, so come Wednesday morning, I’m a puffy eyed zombie.

I take a long shower and try to mask my sadness with makeup, but I’m so tired that I feel nauseated. I have to get some sleep tonight. I can’t go three days with only a few interrupted hours to keep me going.

The whole morning, I debate skipping the class I have with Vince, but the part of me that still wants to see him overrules it. I was too sad to deal yesterday, but today I want to see how he looks. Of course I don’t want to be forgettable, but I hope he doesn’t feel as hopelessly sad as I still do.

It seems like he has enough sadness without me adding to it.

I approach our mutual class with the same tired anticipation as a reluctant junkie approaching my dealer. I’m disappointed when he’s not there yet, but he arrives before Cody and sits away from me again. I understand he wanted to end things between us, but I don’t see why he can’t even sit next to me anymore.

When class ends, he’s out the door before I am, and he doesn’t even look at me.

Maybe it is easier for him.

After that class, I completely bomb my French test. Studying in the courtyard during lunch didn’t do any good, because I haven’t done the reading for the past two nights. I have an A in that class anyway, so I guess I can afford it, but I’m still not looking forward to getting that grade back.

The school day finally ends. I don’t have to pick up my siblings today, and I’m so glad. My body feels like it weighs 800 pounds, which is really not helping me bounce back from this break-up. I need sleep so my stupid brain can start to function again. I might actually try to take a nap, since the house should be quiet and empty when I get there.

I wish I had the car today. I’m too tired to walk all the way home. Technically, I could probably ask Lena for a ride, but things have been so weird between us lately that I don’t.

I nearly make it to the end of the school’s sidewalk when a blue car slows to a stop beside me. I don’t even look, figuring they’re slowing down for the stop sign, until the window rolls down and I hear, “Get in.”

Frowning, I look over to see Cherie in the driver’s seat.

“What?” I ask, not sure I’m understanding.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

I want to tell her no thanks, but I’m too tired. Sliding into the passenger seat, I give her my address and sag against the door. “Thanks,” I murmur.

“Vince wanted to get you a car, but he didn’t have time,” she tells me.

Pain twists in my gut, but I don’t respond.

I expect her to say something on the short drive to my house, to address our break-up, since she obviously knows about it. But she doesn’t. She leaves me alone, turning the radio on at a low volume and humming along as she drives.

She pulls into my driveway, looking at the charred house beside it. I can’t tell if she knows anything about how it happened.

Flashing me an almost smile, she says, “If you ever need a ride, just let me know. I know we don’t have to be friends now, but…”

That’s honestly so nice of her, and I’ve been such a bitch to this poor girl. I realize if Vince does end up with her, I can’t even pissed about it. She’s kind, and he deserves that.

Impulsively, and more because I need one than because she does, I lean over and hug her. “Thanks, Cherie.”

She’s understandably surprised, but she offers a smile as I open the door and climb out.

Fishing my keys out of my bag, I climb the porch steps.

A car door flies open behind me. “Mia,” Cherie calls out.

I turn back to see what she wants, but when my eyes land on her, her face is a mask of fear as she runs for me, a phone to her ear.

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

She knocks into me, grabbing me, standing way too close—for a second, I get the very confused feeling she’s going to kiss me. “Get back in my car, Mia.”

I can’t grasp what’s happening, but I look back at her car.

Into the phone, she says gravely, “You need to get here right now.”

Fear surges through me and I consider bolting, running into my house. “Who is that?” I ask.

I try to pull away from her but she grabs me, hustling me back to her car. She’s small, but surprisingly strong.

“Cherie, what are you doing?” I demand as she throws open the car door.

“Adrian’s here,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something to me.