There was something un-Delilah about the way she spoke. Something too gentle.
“Do I want to hear the next part?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not good, Percy. You tell me if you want to hear it.”
I put my head down so my hair fell around my face, protecting me from the bustle of students.
“I have to hear it.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “He hit on me. He told me I looked good and asked if I wanted to go upstairs.” The world stopped moving. “I didn’t, obviously! I told him to go screw himself and left.”
“Sam wouldn’t do that,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, Percy, but Sam did do that. But he was really, really wasted, like I said.”
“You must have done something,” I cried. “You must have flirted like you always do or told him how cute he was or something.”
“I didn’t!” Delilah said, sounding angry now. “I didn’t do or say anything to make him think I was interested. How could you think that?”
“You can’t blame me for thinking that,” I said crisply. “You know you’re a bit slutty. You’re proud of it.”
The shock of what I said stretched between us. Delilah was silent. I only knew she was there because I could hear her breathing. And when she spoke again, I could also hear that it was through tears.
“I know you’re upset, Percy, and I’m sorry about Sam, but never speak to me like that again. Call me when you’re ready to apologize.”
I sat with my head bent and the phone pressed to my ear long after she hung up. I knew I shouldn’t have said what I did. I knew how ugly it was, and I hadn’t meant it. I thought about calling her back. I thought about saying I was sorry. But I didn’t. I never did.
19
Now
I wake up in Sam’s bed with a pounding headache. There’s a faint bluish-pink light coming in the window. How long was I asleep for? I push the sheet back, hot. I’m still wearing his T-shirt and sweatpants, the knees covered in dirt. I lie there listening, but the house is quiet. On the nightstand are a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. Sam must have put them there.
After popping two pills and drinking all the water, I sit on the edge of his bed, my feet on the carpet, and my head in my hands, taking inventory of the wreckage I’ve caused. I bulldozed Sam with the truth at the worst possible moment. On the day of his mother’s funeral. I didn’t think about him; I only thought about getting the ugliness off my chest. And he knew. He knew, and he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, at least not then.
Sam has put my purse on the floor beside the bed. I dig around for my phone. Determined not to push anyone else out of my life, I call Chantal.
“P?” she says, groggy with sleep.
“I still love him,” I whisper. “I screwed everything up. And I love him. And I’m worried that even if I can get him to forgive me, I’m still not good enough for him.”
“You’re good enough,” Chantal says.
“But I’m such a mess. And he’s a doctor.”
“You’re good enough,” she says again.
“What if he doesn’t think so?”
“Then you come home, P. And I’ll tell you why he’s wrong.”
I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath.
“Okay. I can do that.”
“I know you can.”
When we hang up, I cross the dark hallway to the bathroom. I turn on the light and grimace at my reflection. Underneath the streaks of mascara, my skin is blotchy and my eyes bloodshot and puffy. I splash some cold water on my face and scrub at the black makeup stains until my cheeks are red and raw.
The smell of coffee hits my nose as I tiptoe down the stairs. There’s a light on in the kitchen. I take a deep breath before I have to face Sam again. But it’s not Sam. It’s Charlie. He’s at the table in the same spot where Sue used to sit. He has a mug in his hand, and he’s looking right at me like he was waiting for me.
“Good morning,” he says, lifting his coffee my way.
“You took my car,” I say, standing in the doorway.
“I took your car,” he replies, then takes a sip. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you would be needing to leave in such a hurry.” Clearly Sam has filled him in on a couple of details. “He’s down at the water,” he says before I ask.
I look in the direction of the lake and then back to Charlie. “He hates me.”