She squinted at him for a moment, then cringed. “Are you kidding me?”
She sounded pissed. I hadn’t expected that from her.
“He gets all mad that I’m out and about and look at that. Hypocrite.” Cursing, Mena grabbed for another handful of chips. She shoved them in her mouth and continued to glare at the stage.
This really wasn’t a side of Mena I had ever seen before. “He’s having fun and helping me out.”
“Helping you?” Just like that, all her anger melted away and concern replaced it. “Are you okay?” She looked around. “Is the killer here? Is that why you’re here?” As she was talking, she grabbed a fork from the table. As her fingers closed around it, I reached forward.
“Okay. Whoa.” Taking it out of her hand, I shook my head. “No need for this.” After setting it far away, I added, “I don’t know, but I doubt whoever he is that he’ll do anything. I mean, look around. Plus, I’m not really recognizable.”
She seemed to relax, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Still. Stay with me if you’re not around the guys. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I was taken aback again. Mena sounded like she cared, like she was even protective of me. I whistled under my breath. “Let the guys see this side of you, and they’ll relax a little. If you’re Team Sheldon, that’s all they care about.”
“I was Team Sheldon before, remember? Bryce hated me.”
“Yeah. Well.” I shrugged. “Killing Marcus simmered him down. Going through that, it’s simmered us all down.”
My chest felt tight.
Bryce had said that before, that killing Marcus and going through that whole ordeal hadn’t been dealt with. He said I was running from it, and maybe I was. I didn’t know. I just knew the thought of remembering that day, as I pulled the trigger, was making my chest feel even tighter. Maybe he was right. Maybe I ran from him because I didn’t want a reminder of that time.
Maybe.
I ground my teeth together. Maybe not. I didn’t want to analyze it.
“You okay?”
I grew aware of Mena’s question. Her concern was still there, but it had multiplied. She was watching me intently.
I forced my head to move up and down. Nod. Smile. Make a smart-ass comment and move forward. Forget this slight panic attack had ever happened. Okay, go, Sheldon. I forced another nod, then flashed a grin. I remarked, “So, how does it feel not being the social leper now?” I cringed. The smart-ass comment had been a complete bitch-slap instead. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
She waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.”
Cripes. It worked. The small panic attack was forgotten, but man. I said again, “I really am sorry. I’m trying to work on what comes out of here sometimes.” Gesturing to my mouth, I added, “And I’m glad I said that comment to you and not the guys. The jokes they would’ve gotten from that one . . .” I shuddered. “No, thank you. Okay. Back to you. Not being the social leper you used to be. How’s the going for you?”
Fuck me.
Mena laughed. “No. I know what you mean. I do.” She lifted one shoulder up, pondering the question. “I don’t know. It’s weird. You guys hate me, well, maybe not you since you’re talking to me, but they do.” She gestured to the stage. Bryce and Corrigan were both acting like they were on a runway, each with fierce expressions and their chests pushed out. Corrigan pursed his lips together in a pout and struck a pose. His hip jutted out to the side, he rested his hand on it, and then he shoved his other hip to the opposite side. Bryce was at the other end of the stage, twirling around in a circle so his dress flew up around him.
I grunted. “Right now, they look like idiots, but yeah, they’re works in progress.”
She reached for more chips. “I get why Bryce didn’t like me before. I wasn’t stable, but I’m better now. I’ve had years of therapy. I’ve proven it over and over to Denton. I wanted to come back out here, be with my brother, and try again. Am I dumb? I want to prove myself.” Her bottom lip started trembling.
My eyes got big, and I sucked in a breath. She was going to start crying next, but I couldn’t blame her. I understood, in a weird way. “Just keep on keeping on. Someone told me one time to keep going, keep fighting, keep surviving. Repeat.” I lifted a shoulder. “Sounds like solid advice.”
I was doing the same damn thing, every day. I’d keep going. I’d keep fighting, and I’d keep surviving. No killer was going to conquer me. A renewed vow of finding who he was and bringing him to justice surged in me. I was going to win. I had to.
“Uh, Sheldon?”
I glanced seeing Mena was wincing from pain. Crap. I had reached out to her shoulder and my hand was digging into her skin. “Sorry.” I released her, then gave her a half-grin. “I got carried away thinking of my own situation.”
She rubbed over the spot where I’d been holding her. “Yeah. Listen, I’d like to help.”
“Help?”
She nodded, more earnest. “I don’t know how. Maybe I can be your eyes and ears on campus. I mean, you guys can’t go anywhere without drawing media attention to you, but I can. No one knows me anymore. I won’t draw any attention and I can keep my ears open. People don’t notice me. I mean, look around.” She waved around the table and she was right. There were five different groups, all positioned by the table, but they weren’t paying us the slightest bit of attention. They were either watching the pageant, or they were talking with their friends. No one was looking at Mena, or me.
I realized that with a start. I hadn’t really focused on it before, but it felt good.
No one gave a damn about me, for once. A corner of my mouth was inching upward. I could actually move around, talk, and not fear a video would be sold to a celebrity gossip channel.
“What about it?”
I was pulled from my thoughts again as Mena asked that question. My hand froze in the air; a chip was halfway to my mouth. “Huh?”
“Can I help? Will you let me?”
She looked so hopeful and determined at the same time. For a second, I couldn’t register anything. This was Mena, and she was right. She had changed. I could see it in her now. Gone was the creepy, mentally unstable girl. She seemed normal. There was a hint of desperation, but I felt a kick in my gut again. She wanted to prove herself, like she had said.
She sounded pissed. I hadn’t expected that from her.
“He gets all mad that I’m out and about and look at that. Hypocrite.” Cursing, Mena grabbed for another handful of chips. She shoved them in her mouth and continued to glare at the stage.
This really wasn’t a side of Mena I had ever seen before. “He’s having fun and helping me out.”
“Helping you?” Just like that, all her anger melted away and concern replaced it. “Are you okay?” She looked around. “Is the killer here? Is that why you’re here?” As she was talking, she grabbed a fork from the table. As her fingers closed around it, I reached forward.
“Okay. Whoa.” Taking it out of her hand, I shook my head. “No need for this.” After setting it far away, I added, “I don’t know, but I doubt whoever he is that he’ll do anything. I mean, look around. Plus, I’m not really recognizable.”
She seemed to relax, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Still. Stay with me if you’re not around the guys. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I was taken aback again. Mena sounded like she cared, like she was even protective of me. I whistled under my breath. “Let the guys see this side of you, and they’ll relax a little. If you’re Team Sheldon, that’s all they care about.”
“I was Team Sheldon before, remember? Bryce hated me.”
“Yeah. Well.” I shrugged. “Killing Marcus simmered him down. Going through that, it’s simmered us all down.”
My chest felt tight.
Bryce had said that before, that killing Marcus and going through that whole ordeal hadn’t been dealt with. He said I was running from it, and maybe I was. I didn’t know. I just knew the thought of remembering that day, as I pulled the trigger, was making my chest feel even tighter. Maybe he was right. Maybe I ran from him because I didn’t want a reminder of that time.
Maybe.
I ground my teeth together. Maybe not. I didn’t want to analyze it.
“You okay?”
I grew aware of Mena’s question. Her concern was still there, but it had multiplied. She was watching me intently.
I forced my head to move up and down. Nod. Smile. Make a smart-ass comment and move forward. Forget this slight panic attack had ever happened. Okay, go, Sheldon. I forced another nod, then flashed a grin. I remarked, “So, how does it feel not being the social leper now?” I cringed. The smart-ass comment had been a complete bitch-slap instead. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
She waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.”
Cripes. It worked. The small panic attack was forgotten, but man. I said again, “I really am sorry. I’m trying to work on what comes out of here sometimes.” Gesturing to my mouth, I added, “And I’m glad I said that comment to you and not the guys. The jokes they would’ve gotten from that one . . .” I shuddered. “No, thank you. Okay. Back to you. Not being the social leper you used to be. How’s the going for you?”
Fuck me.
Mena laughed. “No. I know what you mean. I do.” She lifted one shoulder up, pondering the question. “I don’t know. It’s weird. You guys hate me, well, maybe not you since you’re talking to me, but they do.” She gestured to the stage. Bryce and Corrigan were both acting like they were on a runway, each with fierce expressions and their chests pushed out. Corrigan pursed his lips together in a pout and struck a pose. His hip jutted out to the side, he rested his hand on it, and then he shoved his other hip to the opposite side. Bryce was at the other end of the stage, twirling around in a circle so his dress flew up around him.
I grunted. “Right now, they look like idiots, but yeah, they’re works in progress.”
She reached for more chips. “I get why Bryce didn’t like me before. I wasn’t stable, but I’m better now. I’ve had years of therapy. I’ve proven it over and over to Denton. I wanted to come back out here, be with my brother, and try again. Am I dumb? I want to prove myself.” Her bottom lip started trembling.
My eyes got big, and I sucked in a breath. She was going to start crying next, but I couldn’t blame her. I understood, in a weird way. “Just keep on keeping on. Someone told me one time to keep going, keep fighting, keep surviving. Repeat.” I lifted a shoulder. “Sounds like solid advice.”
I was doing the same damn thing, every day. I’d keep going. I’d keep fighting, and I’d keep surviving. No killer was going to conquer me. A renewed vow of finding who he was and bringing him to justice surged in me. I was going to win. I had to.
“Uh, Sheldon?”
I glanced seeing Mena was wincing from pain. Crap. I had reached out to her shoulder and my hand was digging into her skin. “Sorry.” I released her, then gave her a half-grin. “I got carried away thinking of my own situation.”
She rubbed over the spot where I’d been holding her. “Yeah. Listen, I’d like to help.”
“Help?”
She nodded, more earnest. “I don’t know how. Maybe I can be your eyes and ears on campus. I mean, you guys can’t go anywhere without drawing media attention to you, but I can. No one knows me anymore. I won’t draw any attention and I can keep my ears open. People don’t notice me. I mean, look around.” She waved around the table and she was right. There were five different groups, all positioned by the table, but they weren’t paying us the slightest bit of attention. They were either watching the pageant, or they were talking with their friends. No one was looking at Mena, or me.
I realized that with a start. I hadn’t really focused on it before, but it felt good.
No one gave a damn about me, for once. A corner of my mouth was inching upward. I could actually move around, talk, and not fear a video would be sold to a celebrity gossip channel.
“What about it?”
I was pulled from my thoughts again as Mena asked that question. My hand froze in the air; a chip was halfway to my mouth. “Huh?”
“Can I help? Will you let me?”
She looked so hopeful and determined at the same time. For a second, I couldn’t register anything. This was Mena, and she was right. She had changed. I could see it in her now. Gone was the creepy, mentally unstable girl. She seemed normal. There was a hint of desperation, but I felt a kick in my gut again. She wanted to prove herself, like she had said.
