Just Don't Mention It

  “Tiff, can we talk to you for a sec?” Rachael asks as she clears her throat from the staircase.

  “Sure,” Tiffani says, but her act is slipping. Her eyes are narrowed into a sharp glare and her tone is bitter as she slams the bowl of popcorn back onto the countertop and walks away from me. She storms past Rachael, all the way upstairs.

  I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I need to talk to Eden. Quickly, I force my legs to move and I make my way toward her, but I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say. I can sense Dean’s eyes on us, and my stomach is in knots as I near her. Suddenly, she heads for the staircase after Tiffani and Rachael, but I manage to reach out and grasp her elbow. I pull her back toward me, keeping her close, then move my lips to her ear.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss under my breath. I know Eden can be pretty fearless, but she has some serious nerve turning up here. Tiffani could destroy her entire life if she wanted to. Make it miserable. Turn everyone against her.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Eden says, her tone sharp. She pulls her arm free from my grip and steps back, fixing me with a firm look. She is furious, but also disappointed. Mostly, she’s hurt.

  I know how this looks. But I’m not running back to Tiffani. I don’t want to be with Tiffani. I’m only here because I have no other choice, because I can’t just bail on her when she needs me. I couldn’t do that. I don’t care about much in my life, but I do care about doing the right thing when I can. Dad made too many mistakes, and he never tried hard enough to fix them. I can’t be him.

  I don’t even know what to say to her, at least not now, not here. So I walk away. I head back over to Dean and Jake, and Rachael is yelling Eden’s name from upstairs, and when I glance over my shoulder a few moments later, Eden has disappeared. I collapse down onto the couch and run my hands into my hair, groaning.

  “What’s going on?” Dean asks, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who has no idea.

  Why is Eden here? Why is she upstairs with Tiffani and Rachael? What the hell are they talking about? It sends my mind into overdrive and the paranoia sets in. Is there something else going on here that I don’t know about?

  My gaze is fixated on the TV, but I’m entirely tuned out. My heart is still beating too fast. I almost storm upstairs and find out what’s going on, but I force myself to stay put. I tell myself I’m overthinking it, that I’m growing anxious over nothing, but I just can’t fight the questions that are racing through my mind. I’m too unsettled, and I can’t get comfortable.

  “Tyler,” I hear Eden’s voice snap after a number of minutes pass. I crane my neck to look back at her, and she is almost breaking out into a sprint down the staircase. “I need to talk you. Right now. Kitchen,” she splutters, and her words are so frantic that I immediately know something is wrong. Has Tiffani said something to her? What’s happened?

  I leap up off the couch and immediately follow Eden over into the kitchen. She backs away into the corner of the room, as far away from Dean and Jake as we can get, and I stop directly in front of her. My brows are drawn together in confusion as I try to take in the panic in her features. Is she okay?

  “Tiffani’s not pregnant,” Eden hisses under her breath, gritting her teeth. “She’s faking it so that you’ll get back together with her.”

  Her words don’t quite register with me, so I take a step back, blinking fast at her. “What?”

  “She just admitted it to us!”

  The world seems to stop for a moment as this new revelation sinks in. Tiffani . . . She’s been lying the entire time? This is all bullshit? God, it stuns me more than it should. I should have known she would never change. She’s a grade-A manipulative bitch. How could she even stoop to such a level as pathetic as this? I think about the other night. I think about the tears she shed, the pain in her eyes . . . It was all so fucking fake. How could she do this to me? How could she muster up such a cruel lie? Is she seriously that desperate to be with me?

  I feel Eden’s hand on my arm, the warmth of her skin radiating through me, but then suddenly her touch disappears again. There’s footsteps thundering down the staircase, and when I turn around, I see her—I see Tiffani. She is a mess. Tears are flowing down her cheeks and she runs over to me.

  “Baby, please, I’m sorry,” she sobs, reaching out to touch me. She is crying even harder than she did on Sunday morning and her chest is heaving. So it’s true. She’s apologizing. She really did lie. “I’m so, so sorry!”

  I dodge her outstretched hand and shake my head at her in disbelief. She is pathetic. “You’re a psychopath!” I yell, and the house falls into silence. Dean and Jake are watching from the living room, Rachael from the stairs.

  “I hate you!” Tiffani screams, but she isn’t talking to me. No, she’s talking to Eden, as though this is all her fault. But it’s not. Tiffani has brought all of this upon herself, yet the look she gives Eden is full of loathing, and I swear that, just for a second, her expression almost grows threatening.

  I realize then that Tiffani has the prime opportunity to share mine and Eden’s secret. Why shouldn’t she? She hates Eden, and she must know by this point that there is no way in hell I will ever go back to her. Why should she protect us? She has every reason to tell everyone the truth, and I’m waiting for it. Waiting for her to say the words. Waiting for our friends to think I’m out of my fucking mind.

  But Tiffani never does say anything. She only lets out a wail and turns her back on us, burying her head in her hands as she runs back upstairs. She even pushes Rachael out of the way so hard that she falls against the wall.

  That bitch. Finally, I snap and I slam my hand down against the countertop. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply. This is good, I tell myself. Tiffani isn’t pregnant, which means there is no longer any reason for me to stick around here. I’m finally free of her. It’s finally over.

  “I’m leaving,” I announce as I open my eyes again. “I’m not staying here. She’s insane.” I feel almost . . . relieved. Eden is still standing by my side, still staring up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers. She still looks terrified, but she doesn’t need to be. Everything will be okay now. I’ll sort my life out just like I was planning to, and I’ll get to focus solely on her. I’ll get to be with her.

  I hear Tiffani’s bedroom door slam, but I don’t care. I have no sympathy for her. She will convince herself that she’s the victim, but she isn’t. Neither of us is. I just want to get out of this damn house. I grab my car keys from the countertop and make for the door, leaving behind my friends, whose eyes are all fixed on me. I’m sure Rachael can fill Dean and Jake in on what just went down, because right now, I don’t have the energy to stick around. I throw open the front door and step out into the pounding rain, inhaling the fresh, cool air.

  I’m free. I’m finally fucking free.

  The rain is so heavy that it soaks me completely as I sprint across the lawn to my car on the drive. I slide into the car and slam the door shut behind me, then I release the breath I’ve been holding. I sit in silence, running a hand through my wet hair and watching the rain flow down my windshield. I like the sound of it, the rain. It relaxes me as I squint through the window, a lump in my throat as I stare at the front door of Tiffani’s house. I’m waiting for Eden to follow me. I am praying she will follow me.

  I start up my engine while I wait for her, ready to make a quick getaway. We’ll take off together, we’ll get away from here, we’ll go home. I’ll talk to Mom, I’ll fix things, I’ll do everything right from now on. I’m ready. I’m ready for change.

  Finally, the front door opens and Eden steps outside with her hood pulled up over her head. She pulls it tight around her face and runs over to the car, her Converse—a different pair this time—splashing through the puddles that have formed across the drive. She stops outside my window and knocks against the glass, but she is too blurry through the rain.

  I don’t know what she’s doing, but I crack the window ope
n a little and yell, “Get in!”

  Eden runs around the car and slides into my passenger seat, bringing the wind and the rain with her. She quickly pulls the door shut behind her, blowing out a breath of air and pushing down her hood. Wet strands of hair frame her pale face and rosy cheeks. She isn’t wearing any makeup, but she doesn’t need it. Her hazel eyes are so bright, so captivating.

  “Ready to go?” I ask, grabbing the steering wheel.

  “No, Tyler,” she says quietly. “I’m gonna go back inside.”

  Wait. What? She’s not coming with me? She’s going back inside? For a second, I wonder if she’s just being sarcastic, but when I search her expression, I realize she isn’t kidding. “Why the hell did you just come out here?”

  “Because,” she says, wiping her hand across her face to dry away the drops of rain on her skin, “I need to talk to you first, so listen.” Her tone has grown solemn, and as her eyes meet mine, her mouth aligns into a perfect frown. “First things first: Please don’t ever go back to Tiffani.”

  I almost laugh. She really thinks I would ever go back to Tiffani after this? “Screw Tiffani,” I say, glancing out the window to the rain. Angrily, I roll my eyes and grip the steering wheel even harder. “She’s unbelievable.”

  “Tyler,” Eden says, but now her voice has gone quiet, low, husky. Her eyes are intense, and I find myself being drawn into them as I look back over at her. Her frown has deepened. “Please go home and talk to your mom. She’s there alone just now, and trust me, she’ll let you back into the house. She has something she needs to tell you, and it’s really, really important.”

  If Mom had something she needed to say, she would have called by now. I haven’t heard from her at all, which means she still hasn’t forgiven me. “I’m not welcome there,” I say through stiff lips.

  “I’m serious,” Eden says. Shifting in her seat, she angles herself toward me, fumbling with her hands in her lap. She’s anxious about something and the atmosphere is beginning to grow tense, yet I can’t figure out why. “Just hear her out, Tyler. Go home and ask her about New York.”

  I glance at her. I really don’t know what the hell she’s talking about. “New York?”

  “Talk to your mom, Tyler,” she says with a small nod of encouragement.

  “Okay,” I finally agree. I was planning on talking to Mom anyway. Heaving a sigh, I pull at the ends of my hair again, feeling the dampness of the rain.

  Eden has suddenly gone silent, and when I look at her, she is staring at me with an expression I’ve never seen in her features before. Her eyes are crinkling at their corners as they gloss over, and she is biting down hard on her lower lip, but it isn’t enough to stop it from quivering. Something is wrong. I’ve never seen her gaze look so pained before.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I would kill to be able to kiss you every day,” she says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. That husky tone . . . It’s so mesmerizing against the sound of the rain hammering against the car.

  “You can,” I say, sitting up and angling my jaw toward her. My pulse begins to race as I gently smolder my eyes at her, taking her in. I swallow. I could kiss her right now. And tomorrow. And the day after that. I could kiss her forever. “Every single day. I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Me either,” she says but then inhales a deep breath of air. Her features twist, her forehead creases with worry. “But that’s the problem, Tyler. We wouldn’t mind,” she murmurs. “What about everyone else?”

  I take a minute to process her question. What is she saying? She can’t be having doubts now. We’ve already gotten in so deep, already come so far. I know that we’re stepsiblings, but it’s just a label. We aren’t related by blood. It’s different, but it’s not wrong. We’ll deal with it. Is she . . . Is she scared? Please, no.

  “We can get around everyone else. We can figure this out. They’ll understand. Maybe not at first, but they will,” I splutter, but my voice cracks from the panic that’s flooding through me. It sounds a lot like she doesn’t want to do this anymore. It sounds like she’s questioning us. “Seriously. We’ll manage. We’ll . . . We’ll do it.”

  “Tyler,” she says, then pauses. I hold my breath as I listen, but suddenly, her eyes begin to well with tears, and she blinks rapidly to keep them at bay. There is a flash of complete and utter devastation in her eyes as she whispers, “We can’t be together.”

  And it’s like she’s shot me with a loaded gun. My heart explodes into a million different pieces, lodging in my chest. Why is she doing this? I thought that finally, finally, things were looking up. We had a real shot. But now . . . I can’t take this. I shake my head in disbelief, pushing her words out of my mind, wishing that she would take them back. My eyes are closed, but I force them open, even though they sting.

  “You didn’t just say that,” I manage to mumble, but only barely. My voice is so weak.

  When I look at Eden, she is crying. Tears are cascading down her cheeks as she tries to catch them, but there are too many and the stream is endless. She doesn’t want to do this, I know she doesn’t, so why is she? Why is she throwing it all away?

  “We just can’t do this,” she rasps, and I can see the struggle in her eyes behind all of those tears. My chest heaves.

  “Don’t do this. I swear to God. Please, Eden,” I plead with her, fighting with everything in me. My words are laced with desperation. I can’t look at her, not when she’s cutting me off like this, so I have to turn my head to the window, taking deep breaths. I watch the rain roll down the glass, and I just wish it would all stop. I wish the rain would stop, I wish Eden would stop. “We’ve come this far already. You can’t give up now.”

  “We have to.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it,” I say quickly, babbling my words as I twist back around toward her. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and move one hand to Eden’s knee. I will do anything, absolutely anything. “I’ll make this work.”

  Eden’s pained gaze lowers to my hand on her knee, and so slowly, she shakes her head. She can’t look back up at me again as she whispers, “Don’t make this harder.”

  She can’t do this to me. I never thought I’d find someone like her. Someone who cares about me as much as I care about her. Someone who I can open up to, someone I trust. Someone I want to be better for. I am in love with her. “I need to be with you,” I whisper, swallowing hard. I grasp her hand and intertwine our fingers, refusing to let go as I lean across the center console toward her. She finally looks back up at me again, but I can see how difficult it is for her. “Don’t you get it? You’re not my distraction,” I tell her. Tiffani was a distraction. The alcohol and the drugs were a distraction. But Eden is so much more than that. She came into my life when I needed her the most, even though I didn’t know it at the time. She is my savior. “This is me, Eden. This. Right now,” I splutter. I’m crying now too, but I don’t even try to fight it. “You’re making me a goddamn mess, but I don’t care, because it’s me. I’m a mess. And the thing I love about you is that I’m allowed to be a mess around you, because I trust you. You’re the only one who’s cared enough to figure me out. I want to be your mess.”

  “I’m still going to care,” Eden says as fresh tears break free. “But as your stepsister.”

  “Eden,” I try again, squeezing her hand. She doesn’t need to do this. We’re in this together, we’ll figure out how to break the news to our parents. And do we really care what anyone else thinks? Because I don’t. “What about last weekend? We . . . Was all of that for nothing? Has the entire summer been for fucking nothing?”

  “Not nothing. We’ve learned a lot,” Eden says. She looks down at our interlocked hands and she squeezes mine back. She doesn’t let go, either.

  “This isn’t fair!” I yell, slamming my other hand down against the steering wheel. I can’t let it all come to this . . . to nothing. “I told you everything about me. I told you the truth. I broke up with Tiffani, and now she’s pro
bably already planning how she’s going to ruin my life even more than it already has been, but I don’t care, because I thought it would be worth it. I thought it would be worth it, because I was thinking of you. I was putting you first. You know what the only thing running through my mind was when I walked out of that house right now? I can finally be with Eden.” But that’s not going to happen now, and it really fucking hurts. Finally, I retract my hand from Eden’s and rub at my eyes. My expression is blank as I stare out of the windshield at the rain again. “And then you come out here and tell me that you don’t want to.”

  “Do you think I want to do this?” Eden suddenly fires back at me, her voice raised with exasperation. “Because I sure as hell don’t, but I’m doing it because it’s better for us both. I don’t want to see you get worse if this goes wrong. What are you going to do if our parents find out and absolutely hate us? This isn’t the right time. We can’t handle this. You need to fix your life as it is, because you need to go to New York, and you don’t need any of this added on.”

  “What the hell is in New York?” I question, my voice raising to match hers. We’re both still in tears, but we’re so frustrated that we’re growing angry. Not at each other, but at the situation. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

  “Because your mom wants to,” Eden says, lowering her voice again. She goes quiet, sniffing several times as she wipes away more tears. Seconds pass. We are both silent, and all I can hear is the rain and my shallow breathing. Finally, Eden says, “Whatever there is between us, we have to ignore it from now on. We need to stop this now before we get in too deep.”

  Eden’s mind is made up, and it is clear that there is nothing in this world I can do to change it. This is what she wants. I need to respect her decision, and although it is agonizing, at least she isn’t doing this because she doesn’t care about me anymore. She is doing this because we are stepsiblings, and things would be too complicated if we were to pursue anything more than that. I’ve tried my best, but it isn’t enough to convince her. I have no choice but to give in. “If that’s what you really want,” I slowly murmur, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, a lump in my throat. “If you really, really want us to ignore this . . . then I guess I have to.”