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“Vivian—and lots of her. I guess that’s why she hated me so much. I led her on for a long time. I let her think there was something between us there wasn’t.”
“You’re talking like this spiral is over now. What’s changed?”
I smile. This is the part of the story I don’t mind telling. I take her face in my hands. “You, Phoebe. You changed me. Well, and Ty too.”
“That’s a weird combination, Julian.”
I chuckle. “He helped me finally hear what they’ve been saying for a long time. By blaming myself for Lam’s death, all I did was hurt everyone around me…especially you.”
“Me?”
“I’ve been so busy punishing myself that I didn’t see what this stalker had done to me. I guess in some sick way, I saw her as my penance. She kept everything pushed down and sank me further into a hole. It took you standing up to me to show me that fighting her is the only way out. You taught me the meaning of real bravery.”
Frowning, she pulls away. “I’m not brave, Julian. I’m a huge fucking coward.”
“Would a coward have risked everything to write that article? Phoebe, you outed yourself just as much as you outed me. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She gets deathly quiet. There’s a weighted lull hanging in the air as she rubs her hands up and down the pebbled skin on her arms.
“Phoebe Dalton is my real name. Ryan was my mother’s maiden name. I changed it after I left Dreighton University.” She takes a deep breath. “I took out a restraining order against my father when I went to college. Three months into my freshman year, my father showed up and came within two millimeters of ending my life.”
Thirty-Four
Phoebe
Three Years Ago
Dreighton University
“Damn it,” I curse as the button on my genie pants pops again.
“They make those costumes for chicks with the body of a twelve-year-old boy,” Faith says with a laugh. “I don’t know why you thought you could fit into one.”
I shoot my roommate a look as I fasten the safety pin. “Have you looked in the mirror since you put on that outfit? Your ass is hanging out of your skirt.” I cock my head to the side. “What are you supposed to be anyway? Your face looks like you went bobbing for flour.”
Faith twirls around, the short skirt fanning around her slender legs. “Duh, I’m a dead cheerleader.”
“Cheerleaders aren’t dead, genius.”
She wrinkles her nose, tightening the blonde ponytail placed high on the top of her head. “Well, they should be.”
Shaking my head, I go back to spraying body glitter all over my exposed skin. The aerosol button gets stuck, spraying a cloud of gold sparkles throughout our tiny dorm room. Within seconds, Faith and I are both coughing, each inhaling hundreds of glitter sparkles.
“Either Pheebs is dressing up like Princess Jasmine or I’ve walked into a stripper convention,” Shane quips, striding into the room.
“Door number one… Door…urgh…number one,” I sputter, still hacking sparkles.
“Bummer. Door number two would have made for a much more interesting night.”
Faith rolls her eyes and grabs a set of black pom poms. “Pig.”
I laugh at them, buzzing with excitement for the night ahead. Unrelenting schedules significantly cut our time together, especially since Shane joined a fraternity. But pledging had ended, and now we’re headed to his fraternity’s annual Halloween Bash. I’ve missed him, and tonight I plan on reconnecting with my best friends, ridiculous costumes and all.
“Nice suit, Shane,” I say, running my fingers over the lapel of his suit jacket. “Who are you supposed to be? Mr. Corporate Douche Bag?”
He jerks his black-rimmed glasses off his face with a dramatic twist of his head. “Yes, in fact. By day, I’m Mr. Corporate Douche Bag. By night”—he rips open his button-down shirt, revealing a Superman T-shirt, and pulls me to his side—“I’m Super Douche Bag.”
Laughing, I swat his chest playfully. “You’re a dumbass.”
