That was when she lost it. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she fell into me, sobbinghard.
Tears escaped me too. I’d been holding back. I was only thinking of getting to her and explaining. Only thinking of how to make this right.
And then Brooke hit Grace, and I had to hold myself back from getting in trouble myself.
It was all terrifying, and I wasn’t made of stone. I thought it was over. I thought Grace was hurt. And all of my fears were happening tonight.
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said through her sobs.
“Why are you sorry?” I asked. She’d been through just as much, if not more, and that was unacceptable. “She hurt you.”
Grace pulled away and let her cool hand rest on my cheek. “She hurt you too.”
“Who cares about me?”
She frowned. “I do.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? We both cared about each other. This was an equal partnership, where either she or I gave everything without wanting anything in return. We were a team. We loved each other.
And Brooke tried to ruin that.
I tugged Grace back to me, and all we could do was exist in each other’s embrace.
Mom wound up making us some tea before sitting in the extra chair in the living room, giving us space and silence to process. It reminded me of the night after Dad’s funeral, when neither of us knew what to do.
But this time I did.
We would feel sad for a while. We would slowly learn how to feel okay again. And life would go on.
But this moment? It was terrible.
Grace’s phone kept going off, and eventually, she pulled it out.
“Wh-what are they saying?”
“Honey, don’t worry about that,” Mom said. “You barely even like these people.”
I pressed my lips together. Her statementwastrue, but deep down, I was gutted by the idea of them hating me. I felt like something I’d grown used to was irrevocably changed. It was a different kind of heartbreak, but one I’d felt before.
It was when Shady Acres lost its way.
“You do care, don’t you?” Grace said softly.
I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t; she would see right through that.
“I do,” I muttered. “I’m not sure when I started to, but ... it was nice. Being a part of them for a while.”
I’d known how this would end, which was why I tried to keep my distance, to stay in denial about it. Yet here I was, desperately wanting to know how badly this looked on me. Could I salvage this?
I wanted to, and that was terrifying.
“I’m so sorry,” Mom said.
“They should know better,” Grace added. “And they will.”
I saw her go to Facebook before she angled the screen away from me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.