“What about Adam? Will she talk to him?”
Nick looked down at the table. “Maybe, but she hasn’t been showing up to dance.”
“Could you ask him to reach out to her?”
Nick picked at the edge of his place mat and didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” said Michael. “Don’t leave out part of the story.”
So Nick told him about the previous night. About Adam.
And Hunter. His cheeks were on fire, and he didn’t go to any great detail, but he talked.
“Wow,” said Michael, dragging the word into three syllables.
“No wonder you’re so keyed up.”
Nick shrugged. His mood darkened as his brain replayed shoving Adam again. “Guess I’m aggressive sometimes, huh?”
Michael hesitated. “I didn’t mean that as an insult, Nick.”
He didn’t need to. Nick got it. He couldn’t help Quinn, he couldn’t fix things with Adam, and hell, he couldn’t even stand up to frigging Tyler.
“I’m going to talk to Becca’s mom,” Michael said finally.
“She knows Quinn’s family.”
“You don’t need to get involved,” Nick said.
“Wrong. I think I should have gotten involved a long time ago.” He paused and drained the last of his coffee. “I also have a few thoughts about Tyler.”
Nick looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to confront him?”
“No. I’m going to leave him alone, and I think you should, too.” When Nick started to protest, Michael held up a hand. “I don’t think he’s hurting Quinn.” He paused, and his voice took on a shadow of the pain he’d expressed when he’d talked about that night at the quarry. “He hates me. He hates our whole family. He hates what we are and he hates what we can do. We see the dark side of Tyler because that’s all he lets us see.”
“Maybe that’s all there is to see,” Nick said bitterly.
“I don’t think so,” said Michael.
“Why not?”
“Because he loved his sister,” Michael said. “Very much.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he was the first kid I pulled out of the water that night. He was bleeding all over the place and his shoulder was dislocated, but once I brought him around, he coughed up a gal-lon of water and fought like hell to go back under to find her.”
He paused. “I understand why he hates us, Nick. I do. But I think part of him hates himself, too.”
Nick thought of the burn on Quinn’s wrist. Of the way Tyler had grabbed him two hours ago. Of the years of abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Tyler and Seth and their friends. He kept flashing on that gym class freshman year, when Tyler had cornered Nick in the locker room and beaten the crap out of him.
Nick could still remember feeling powerless, clenching his fists so he wouldn’t call elements by accident, afraid to swing because he didn’t want Tyler to hit him harder.
He’d switched places with Gabriel the next day. His twin wasn’t afraid to hit back.
What had Quinn said? Tyler still thinks your brother killed his sister.
Tyler had confided in Quinn. About something that had happened five years ago.
Quinn had confided in Tyler. What else had she told him?
Nick’s head couldn’t handle all these emotions. “Can we go?” he asked abruptly.
Michael took it in stride. “Sure. If you’re ready.”
The drive home was quiet aside from the steady rain smacking the windshield. This time, the temperature in the cab remained steady. No tension hung between Nick and his brother.
“Thanks,” Nick finally said. “For being okay.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Michael paused. “I won’t say anything to the guys.”
Nick nodded. “Thanks.”
Michael was silent for a while. “Can I tell Hannah?”
Nick thought about it. “Yeah. I think that’d be okay.”
Michael nodded and didn’t say anything else.
Nick wanted to put everyone’s troubles out of his head, to let the sound of rain on the windshield steal his thoughts and let him relax. Instead, he kept analyzing his conversation with Michael. About Quinn, about Adam.
About Tyler.
They were almost home when Nick figured out what Michael had meant about Tyler.
He was the first kid Michael had pulled out of the water.
Covered in blood with a dislocated shoulder, but when I brought him around . . .
Tyler had been hit by a rock, too. Michael hadn’t just lost Emily that night.
He’d saved Tyler’s life.
Quinn blotted at the cut on Tyler’s cheek, being a little rougher than she needed to be. “Why did you pick a fight with him?”
“I didn’t pick a fight.”
“You’re telling me you were only standing there and Nick Merrick walked up and started bringing down a tornado on your ass? Yeah, okay.”
Tyler looked at her, not flinching as she pressed a cotton ball full of antiseptic against his face. She honestly didn’t know why she was bothering—the cut was an hour old, and he could probably light a candle and heal himself. Or something.
When he spoke, his voice was rough and angry. “I hated them before, but now—” He gritted his teeth. “I hate that he’s using you, Quinn.”
“He’s not using me,” she said quietly. “It’s—it’s an illusion.
I’m not doing anything for him. And he’s my friend. I hate that you got into it with him.”
“If he’s your friend, he should be protecting you.”
She flung the cotton in the trash. “I can take care of myself.”
“How? By clinging to any guy who will give you a second glance?”“Fuck you.” She swung a fist to punch him in the chest.
He caught her wrist and, when she fought, wrestled her back against the wall. She glared up at him, breathing heavy, seething with anger.
He got right in her face. “Get as mad as you want, baby girl.
You know it’s true.”
She hated him. Hated him.
She would not cry. Would not.
He held her there. “You sure do make it tough to help you.
I’m almost inclined to give Merrick a free pass.”
“At least he doesn’t treat me like this.”
“Like what? It’s okay for you to punch me, but when I stop you, I’m the ass**le? Is that part of your screwed-up morality?”
Quinn didn’t have anything to say to that.
Tyler kept going. “You keep acting like I’m hurting you because I don’t want to sleep with you. Guess what, sweetheart. I don’t want to sleep with someone who keeps acting like it’s a form of payment.”
She flinched hard, unable to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat.
“Do you even like me?” he said. “Or did I just show up at the right time?”
That made her sag under the tension of his hands. She looked away from him, clenching her jaw against tears and speech. Her hair fell across her face, and she studied the bathroom tile.
“I’ve never lied to you,” said Tyler. “I’m not going to start now, okay?”
She had no idea where this was going. It sounded like a prelude to him kicking her ass out of his apartment.
But then he said, “I’ve liked you since the day you went off on me in Merrick’s driveway. I like that you aren’t afraid of me.
I like that you don’t seem to be afraid of anything. I like that you’re driven, that you dance in the middle of the woods when you have nowhere else. I like that you’ve been through hell with your family, and you’re still willing to come up kicking.”
Quinn peeked at him through the fall of hair.
“You know what I hate?” he said evenly. “I hate that you’re too stubborn to ask anyone for help, even though you damn sure need it. I hate when someone tries to help and you do everything you can to make them wash their hands of you. But the absolute worst thing, the thing that I can’t f**king stand, is how you’re this beautiful, talented girl, but for some reason you act like you need to buy a guy’s favor.”
Tears were running down her cheeks now. “I don’t do that. I don’t.”
“You do, Quinn.” His hands softened on her wrists. “You do it with me, and you did it with Merrick.”
“I never did anything with Nick.”
“Are you kidding me? You pretended to be his girlfriend!
You were so desperate to be attached to a guy that you latched on to one who doesn’t even like girls. ”
“I was helping him,” she cried. “Because he was my friend.”
“No, you were afraid to let him go,” said Tyler. “Because you were afraid to give someone a chance to like you for real.”
She needed him to stop talking. She needed to stop crying.
She needed out. To get out. Of here. Right now.
But her limbs felt too weak, like she couldn’t hold herself up.
“I get it,” said Tyler. “I’ve seen your family. The people who should love you, don’t. I just—you’re worth more than that. I wish you could see that.”
“Have you been studying for your Psych one-oh-one final or something?” she said, trying for anger, but her voice came out defeated. “Why don’t you leave me alone.”
He sighed and let her go. Quinn didn’t move.
Tyler ran a hand through his blond hair. “Are you hungry?”
Quinn glanced up at him. After a long minute, she nodded.
“Feel like Chinese?”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded broken.
His cell phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket to glance at the display. He sighed again, heavily. “Damn it. One of the alarms is going off at the strip mall. I need to go check it out.” He hesitated. “Are you going to be okay for half an hour?
I’ll bring food back with me.”
No. She wouldn’t be okay.
But Quinn nodded. What else could she do?
“Come on,” he said. “I can’t just leave you collapsed on the floor of the bathroom.”
She wiped the tears off her face and flopped on the couch instead.
He hesitated at the door. “I’m not going to come home and find you gone, am I?”
She shook her head. Where else would she go?
Then he was gone, and it took everything she had not to call him back.
His voice reverberated through her head.
You’re this beautiful, talented girl, but for some reason you act like you need to buy a guy’s favor.
Did she do that?
She thought of all the boys she’d dated, the way she treated them, the way they treated her. Rafe Gutierrez, the boy who’d acted surprised when she told him that no, they didn’t have an open relationship. Or Andy Kauffman, who said she was boring when she didn’t want to get na**d in his basement night after night. Or Lev Spartara, the boy she’d strung along with promises of heavy make-out sessions in the backseat of his mom’s Toyota.
Had she been using them the same way they’d been using her?
She remembered sitting in Nick’s front seat, climbing into his lap, practically unbuttoning his pants after he’d told her she couldn’t spend the night at his house.
And then offering to continue being his girlfriend—under the pretense of keeping his secret.
Tyler was right. She and Nick might have been friends, but there was dishonesty on both sides of that relationship.
She fought her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through all the text messages she’d ignored.
With shaking fingers, she dialed. The line was answered almost immediately.
“Quinn? Are you okay?”