She looked back at the water. “The fire was a retaliation against my father. He’s a good attorney, but he doesn’t win everything. Some guy went to jail, and his friends were mad. I don’t know all the details, because I was five, and my dad doesn’t like to talk about it. Because Simon is deaf, he can’t hear smoke detectors. There was fire everywhere they’d thrown glass jars of gasoline into the house. When it all started, my mother went looking for Simon. She didn’t know my father had already gotten him out. And she was so busy searching his room that she didn’t even think to check mine. The firemen pulled me out, but it was too late. I’d climbed into my closet, and the wall burned through the back ”
Her voice broke, and she told herself to knock it off. It’s not like she hadn’t lived with this for years. “I remember waking up in the hospital, and my mom was crying. She kept asking me, ‘Why didn’t you get out, Layne? Why didn’t you get out?’ For years, I felt so guilty, like I’d done something wrong. I did everything I could to please her, like wearing the perfect little clothes she’d buy me, or with the horseback riding, going to every perfect little show she wanted. It wasn’t until I was twelve, when everyone was wearing those stupid shirts with the shoulder cut out, you know? I wanted to wear one. I begged for one, and she finally snapped, ‘But, Layne, people will see your scars. What will they think?’
“I felt like such an idiot. All those boots and long-sleeved dresses. Horseback riding, for god’s sake! One of the only sports you have to do fully clothed! I’d been so desperate to please her that I never realized she was trying to hide her mistake. But by then I’d been hiding the scars for so many years that I had to keep them a secret. What eighth grader wants to walk into school and declare she has scars all over her body? But people noticed anyway. I mean, when you wear long sleeves in May, people start thinking you’re weird. But I stopped wearing her fancy clothes. Every time she bought me something, I knew it was a cover-up for the scars.”
Gabriel was quiet for a moment. “How the hell do you live with her?”
“I don’t.” Layne paused, unsure whether to keep going. This next part was fresh, and the hardest. “She walked out the week after school started. Moved in with some guy she’d met at the country club. She told our father she was sick of trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Get it? She was sick of trying to make a perfect family out of a bunch of freaks.”
“So now you’re stuck with your father.”
She swung her head around, hearing the derision in his voice.
“My dad’s not usually like . . . like he was with you. He’s going through a lot. My mom was a bitch to him, too, but I don’t think he ever thought she’d cheat on him. She always blamed him for the fire. She wanted him to quit his job and he’d counter that she loved spending the money. She was the one who put Simon in a private school, saying it was better for him, but I finally figured out that he was just one more imperfection she was trying to hide . . .”
Gabriel reached out and ran a finger along her cheekbone, and she didn’t realize until then that she was crying. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“No one does.” She sniffed. “Until now, and Taylor’s going to put that stupid video all over the Internet.”
“It’s Friday night. People will forget all about it by Monday.”
He paused, running a finger across her cheek again. “And I’ll be surprised if people even believe it’s you.”
She looked up at him. “You will? Why?”
He picked up a curl of hair from her shoulder. “Because you haven’t just been keeping the scars hidden; you’ve been keeping sexy Layne hidden.”
“I am not sexy.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t jump you when we were sitting on the tailgate.”
“Shut up.”
His hand found her knee, and he leaned in to kiss her neck.
“Really, you’re lucky I’m not jumping you right now.”
His hand slid along the outside of her thigh, not too high, just inside the hemline of her skirt. The touch stole every thought from her head. “And you’re not . . . you’re not freaked out . . .
by the . . . um . . .”
“No. I think you’re beautiful. And I’m no stranger to f**ked up families.”
And then he was kissing her again. The addictive pull of his mouth almost had her crawling into his lap. Her hands bunched in his shirt, pulling him closer. His fingers didn’t venture higher, but teased along the edge of her skirt, brushing against her so lightly that she almost couldn’t stand it. She’d never thought anyone would touch her this way she’d never wanted anyone to touch her this way. But now that he was being so careful, the building heat in her body made her want to rip all her clothes off.
Layne always rolled her eyes in health class when they talked about hormones getting out of control. But right now, she could barely remember her name. She totally got how someone could forget something like a silly little condom.
Suddenly Gabriel was laughing. “How someone could forget what?”
She almost fell off the bench. “I said that out loud?”
“Yeah.” He leaned closer, his breath against her jaw. “Just what were you thinking about?”
“Health class,” she squeaked.
His cell phone chimed. Thank god.
Her voice broke, and she told herself to knock it off. It’s not like she hadn’t lived with this for years. “I remember waking up in the hospital, and my mom was crying. She kept asking me, ‘Why didn’t you get out, Layne? Why didn’t you get out?’ For years, I felt so guilty, like I’d done something wrong. I did everything I could to please her, like wearing the perfect little clothes she’d buy me, or with the horseback riding, going to every perfect little show she wanted. It wasn’t until I was twelve, when everyone was wearing those stupid shirts with the shoulder cut out, you know? I wanted to wear one. I begged for one, and she finally snapped, ‘But, Layne, people will see your scars. What will they think?’
“I felt like such an idiot. All those boots and long-sleeved dresses. Horseback riding, for god’s sake! One of the only sports you have to do fully clothed! I’d been so desperate to please her that I never realized she was trying to hide her mistake. But by then I’d been hiding the scars for so many years that I had to keep them a secret. What eighth grader wants to walk into school and declare she has scars all over her body? But people noticed anyway. I mean, when you wear long sleeves in May, people start thinking you’re weird. But I stopped wearing her fancy clothes. Every time she bought me something, I knew it was a cover-up for the scars.”
Gabriel was quiet for a moment. “How the hell do you live with her?”
“I don’t.” Layne paused, unsure whether to keep going. This next part was fresh, and the hardest. “She walked out the week after school started. Moved in with some guy she’d met at the country club. She told our father she was sick of trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Get it? She was sick of trying to make a perfect family out of a bunch of freaks.”
“So now you’re stuck with your father.”
She swung her head around, hearing the derision in his voice.
“My dad’s not usually like . . . like he was with you. He’s going through a lot. My mom was a bitch to him, too, but I don’t think he ever thought she’d cheat on him. She always blamed him for the fire. She wanted him to quit his job and he’d counter that she loved spending the money. She was the one who put Simon in a private school, saying it was better for him, but I finally figured out that he was just one more imperfection she was trying to hide . . .”
Gabriel reached out and ran a finger along her cheekbone, and she didn’t realize until then that she was crying. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“No one does.” She sniffed. “Until now, and Taylor’s going to put that stupid video all over the Internet.”
“It’s Friday night. People will forget all about it by Monday.”
He paused, running a finger across her cheek again. “And I’ll be surprised if people even believe it’s you.”
She looked up at him. “You will? Why?”
He picked up a curl of hair from her shoulder. “Because you haven’t just been keeping the scars hidden; you’ve been keeping sexy Layne hidden.”
“I am not sexy.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t jump you when we were sitting on the tailgate.”
“Shut up.”
His hand found her knee, and he leaned in to kiss her neck.
“Really, you’re lucky I’m not jumping you right now.”
His hand slid along the outside of her thigh, not too high, just inside the hemline of her skirt. The touch stole every thought from her head. “And you’re not . . . you’re not freaked out . . .
by the . . . um . . .”
“No. I think you’re beautiful. And I’m no stranger to f**ked up families.”
And then he was kissing her again. The addictive pull of his mouth almost had her crawling into his lap. Her hands bunched in his shirt, pulling him closer. His fingers didn’t venture higher, but teased along the edge of her skirt, brushing against her so lightly that she almost couldn’t stand it. She’d never thought anyone would touch her this way she’d never wanted anyone to touch her this way. But now that he was being so careful, the building heat in her body made her want to rip all her clothes off.
Layne always rolled her eyes in health class when they talked about hormones getting out of control. But right now, she could barely remember her name. She totally got how someone could forget something like a silly little condom.
Suddenly Gabriel was laughing. “How someone could forget what?”
She almost fell off the bench. “I said that out loud?”
“Yeah.” He leaned closer, his breath against her jaw. “Just what were you thinking about?”
“Health class,” she squeaked.
His cell phone chimed. Thank god.
