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“Are you going to the police?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t do anything I can report. What he said really wasn’t a threat—what he said was what anyone would probably say if someone cast suspicion on them.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like what he said to you.”
“Neither do I.” I rubbed my hands across my face again.
Calla left for the kitchen, tossing the ice cream in the garbage. When she returned, she curled up beside me, remote in hand. “Let’s watch some bad TV. I’m pretty sure that cures all.”
Bad TV might cure a lot of things, but I knew it wouldn’t fix what was ailing me. I wasn’t sure what could. I’d given my body and my heart to Jase and he had handed them back.
A few things became clear by the end of the week. If the police suspected that Erik was guilty of anything other than being a shitty human being, it didn’t show. I saw him around campus and he didn’t look like a guy who had the police breathing down his neck or was about to be arrested for murder at any given second.
Maybe my suspicions were totally off the mark, but I avoided Erik at all costs, even if it meant crossing the street when I didn’t have to or turning and walking in the other direction. Even if he hadn’t hurt Debbie this time, he had in the past.
The other thing was that there was no keeping the fact that Jase and I were not together from Cam and Avery. By Friday, when I guessed neither of us showed up for lunch in the Den for the third time, they suspected something was up.
Cam cornered me when he’d come over to grab some extra clothes. I was sitting on the couch watching a marathon of Dance Moms, an open bag of Cheetos on the coffee table and two empty soda cans keeping me company.
He sat beside me, dropping his hands between his knees. “So . . . ?”
I exhaled loudly.
“Yeaah,” he said slowly. “So what the hell is up with you and Jase? You two haven’t been coming to the Den. At first I thought ya’ll just wanted some privacy, which, by the way, irked me, but I haven’t seen his Jeep here since Sunday morning.”
Debating if I should draw this out or just get it over with, I tugged the quilt our grandmother had made for Cam a few years back up to my chin. “We’re not together,” I said, like ripping a Band-Aid off. I laughed then, the sound dry. “I don’t even think the couple of days we were together really counts as being in a relationship. I’m pretty sure Britney Spears and Kim Kardashian have been married longer than we were together.”
I thought that last bit was pretty damn funny, but Cam looked like someone just died in front of us. “I knew it. That son of a—”
“I really don’t want to hear that right now.” I turned to him, and whatever he saw in my face caused him to shut up. “Whatever happened between us shouldn’t affect your friendship.”
“How can it not? Look at you?” He glanced around the room, gaze landing on the bag of junk food and soda cans. He sent a pointed glare at the TV, right when a small girl burst into tears. “You’re my baby sister and you’re obviously sitting here heartbroken. I knew he would fuck this up and he had to have known it too.”
“How did you know, Cam?”
He opened his mouth and he closed it.
My smile was weak. “I know—I know about Jack. Everything.”
Shock flickered across his face as he sat back. “He told you everything?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me. Is that why you knew he’d fuck up? Because he has a kid or because he’s still in love with Jack’s mother?” I was just throwing the last part out there. I didn’t really know for a hundred percent that he was in love with her still, but it seemed that way. By the way Cam’s eyes widened even more, I feared I hit it right on the nail.
“He told you about Kari?”
“Her name’s Kari?” I asked.
Cam stared at me a moment then looked away. Several seconds passed. “So he didn’t tell you about her? I guessed as much as he told you about Jack, but he didn’t say anything about her?”
“No.” I swallowed, lowering the quilt by an inch. “When he told me about Jack, he wouldn’t talk about her and when he . . . when he said we couldn’t be together, he said it was because he wasn’t ready for something serious.” I was so leaving out the sex part, because as far as Cam knew, our relationship hadn’t progressed to that part. If Cam knew it had and that Jase had called things off the day afterward, he would do more than punch him. “I asked if it was about her, but he still wouldn’t talk about her. I think . . . I think he’s still in love with her.”
Cam ran his hand through his hair, causing several strands to stick straight up. “Shit, Teresa, I don’t know what to say.”
A ball of ice formed in my stomach. “Yeah, you do, but you just don’t want to say it. You know about her, and he’s still in love with her, isn’t he? That’s why you didn’t want us to be together. She is—”
“Was,” he corrected quietly. “Her name was Kari and I’m sure Jase loved her, loved her in a way that any sixteen-or-so-year-old guy could love his girlfriend.”
My brain got hung up on the past tense. Not the loved part being in the past but the reference to her. “What do you mean by ‘was,’ Cam?”
