Page 92 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

I turn around to leave, but Maura calls out, “Wait. For what it’s worth, James told me what they did to you. All of it. And I think you deserved to be angry. I just wish you’d told me instead of telling the internet.”

“Yeah. I wish I’d done that, too. I just—I thought maybe you’d laugh at me for still being hung up on it, after all these years.”

She shakes her head. “No. I wouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” I murmur. “You wouldn’t have.”

Maura’s too kind, too sensitive to laugh at me. I should have known that, but I guess I was projecting my own feelings onto her. I judge myself for letting the pain fester. Maybe if I had confided in her, that wound would be a little more healed.

James stands outside Maura’s studio, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like a guard at his post, relaxed but alert. He meets my eyes, apparently unabashed at being caught eavesdropping and lingering.

“Brinley,” he says as a greeting, then gives me a nod. I nod back, then walk to the elevators. I’m really starting to like James, I realize.

It’s sunny outside. It soaks into my bones, refilling me with an energy I haven’t felt in a long time. I shrug off my jacket and start to walk.

An English professor once told me that the best stories are written after a long walk. Letting your feet carry you frees your mind, he said. I’m not sure if walking makes me a better writer, but it does make it easier for me to organize my thoughts. Patterns emerge, through-lines that I failed to see.

I got comfortable hiding behind Peppermint. Anonymity was a fortress that let me hurl insults at my enemies without ever letting them see me. I thought I was protecting myself. Instead, hiding kept me from healing. I could have confided in Maura about the diary incident months ago. She would have embraced me and helped to hold that pain.

I can’t let myself get bogged down by regret. When I told the truth with my real name, I set myself free. As hard as it is, I have to figure out how to forgive myself.

Eventually.

After all, a little self-flagellation can be good for you, right?

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I almost drop the phone when I see the text.

Cat

Pippa and I are at her place. If you want to come talk, we’re here. If you’re not ready, that’s okay too. But we’d rather hear it from you.

A smile cracks across my face. It feels too good to be true—my friends haven’t completely shut me out after all. I might be losing my building and my inbox might be full of hateful messages, but the most important people are willing to give me a chance, and that’s all I care about.

I check the time. I’ve been walking for almost forty-five minutes. I quickly turn around, speedwalking toward the House of Cards.

Brinley

I’m on my way.

33

BEAU

Ishove another piece of strawberry Pop-Tart in my mouth. I meant what I told Brinley. Pop-Tarts are an abomination that don’t deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as pastries. That said, they’re a great foodish object to stress eat when you’re overwhelmed.

I sit back on Brinley’s couch and try to focus on the cooking show in front of me. A bunch of pastry chefs are running around trying to create a massive cake shaped like a horse, which at the moment looks less like a horse and more like a three-legged cat. Maybe I would think that was funny if I could get what today is out of my head.

It’s Nate’s birthday.

I wish I didn’t know that, but the date has been burned into my brain since the ninth grade. I wish I didn’t know that across town, the guys are celebrating the same way we do every year—by watching Gladiator and drinking every time someone says “Rome.” Every year, we all get sloppy drunk by the time Maximus yells “Are you not entertained?” and spend the rest of the night fake sword fighting with umbrellas and broom handles.

This year, for the first time, they’ll be doing it without me.

I wonder if they’ll miss me at all.

Keys jangle at the front door and Brinley walks inside. A surprised smile blooms on her face, and for a second, I’m almost happy.

“Beau! I didn’t expect to see you here.”