Aside from the fact that his father owns the cabin we’re staying in—which we don’t exactly have a proper lease for—there’s the little fact that his father kind of terrifies me. His warning that first night felt empty at first, but the longer I stay here the more it keeps coming to mind.
The more I start to worry it might have actually carried some weight.
“Eh, who cares about that prick,” Tom says, shoving a chip in his mouth. “He’s just lucky I didn’t have time to steal a couple of bottles.”
I roll my eyes at him and then stand up from the table before the urge to smack him grows too strong to ignore any longer.
“I’m going to go tell the teacher about our partner switch,” I say to Aimee. She nods, unable to say anything since she has a mouthful of brownie, but I can tell she’s pleased.
I get the slightest twinge of annoyance, but I force it down. Let her deal with Rory and the others. They seem determined to hate me, but maybe Aimee won’t turn out so lucky.
However, when I get to class Rory is already there. He pushes past me on his way out of the classroom … and before I can start to question what he was doing there, he answers that for me.
“If you’re going to ask if we can switch partners, don’t bother. Apparently, it’s not allowed,” he says, looking disgruntled.
Rory starts to walk away, leaving me in the classroom doorway looking awkwardly at the teacher.
Am I really going to just let that stand? Just like that?
I should, but I can’t.
“Rory, wait!” I call after him. I chase him down a few steps as he turns to face me.
“What is it?”
“About what you were saying earlier. I honestly didn’t mean to pry.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But—”
I want to remind him that whatever it was I overheard was important enough for him to make a fool of me in front of half the student body, but that doesn’t seem to matter now.
“Sabrina, forget it.”
I stand there staring at Rory awkwardly. I just don’t understand him. When it comes to me, at least, he’s all sharp edges.
Aside from the fact that he’s now caught me breaking into two buildings on their property … first the barn and now the house. Marlowe warned me Rory was territorial, so yeah, I guess that explains it.
Standing here, staring at Rory, I feel like a total idiot.
Rather than storming off, as I’ve come to expect him to do, Rory bites his lip a second as if thinking—and then barks out a question.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
I stumble over words for a moment. “We … we just wanted to check out the house. Everyone does, you know. Granted, most people probably don’t break in, but it’s kind of a rite of passage if—”
“No, not that,” he says, cutting me off. “I mean what are you really doing here. You, your mom, in this town.”
I’m not sure what possesses me to tell Rory anything. It’s not like he’s been at all friendly toward me. But something prompts me to open my mouth and tell him a fuller version of the truth than I’ve told anyone.
“We’re running away,” I say.
I think that’s it. I think it’ll end there. But maybe it’s because his eyes feel like they’re already seeing inside of me, but the rest of the sorry truth spills out of me here, in this hallway.
“From my father.”
He looks at me a moment, and I know that he sees more than words could ever say. I see a recognition dawning on him. I see the way his eyes register something, and I know he’s putting it all together.