Believe Me ✔️

[9] Isn't it Ironic?

My driveway grows further and further the longer I stay standing by the edge. It took me about twenty minutes to get home from the police station. Uncle Frank's been blowing up my phone with calls and texts, but I ignore them all. Instead of calling Uncle Frank back, I dial Logan's number instead. Straight to voicemail. "Hi, Logan. It's Addy. I don't know if you're still busy with football practice, but I could really talk to you right now. I-I just need you. Please call me. I love you." 

I take in deep, steady breaths as I start walking down the long empty path, contemplating the million ways I can explain this to Tyler. The closer I get to the front door, the deeper fear pushes my words down. I can do it. I can tell Tyler. He'll listen. Up the porch steps, I walk through the front door and to the living room, about to call my brother when I notice someone sitting on the couch. I stop dead in my tracks, voice trapped in my throat. Paul's here. He's sitting on my couch playing Call of Duty. I'm frozen. I can't move. My mind is telling me to run, but all I can do is stay. What is he doing here?

Paul notices me and greets me with a smile. "Addy! Hey. Tyler mentioned you were sick. The flu, right? How you feeling?"

I don't know what to say.

Tyler walks in with a bowl of popcorn, confused to see me. "Oh. Hey, Addy."

"Hi, Tyler," I whisper, unable to take my eyes off Paul, hopeful that the longer I stare at him he'll suddenly burst into flames.

My brother walks over and places his freezing hands to my face. "You're still pretty warm, Addy. You should get in bed before your fever spikes back up. I'll make you some chicken noodle soup. Sound good?"

"Hey, don't send your sister away. Maybe we can teach her a thing or two about the game. What do you say, Dee?" Paul reaches across the coffee table for a handful of popcorn, extending his hand to me. "Popcorn?" He viciously offers.

"No thanks," I mutter, angry. I turn to my brother. "What is he doing here?"

"Coach canceled football practice. Some home emergency, so we decided to come waste our time playing video games." Tyler throws himself down beside Paul and they continue playing their game.

Something turns in my stomach and I race in the kitchen in time as I throw up in the sink. I run the faucet and splash water in my face. What the hell is Paul doing here? I spin around as I hear footsteps, relived when I see Tyler. My stomach settles, but the uneasy nerve stays in my heart. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry. Go get in bed. I'll make you some soup, okay?" Tyler grabs my arm to lead me out of the kitchen, but I protest and shove my arm back free. "I'm serious, Ads. You're just going to get more sick. Do you want me to run to the store and get you something?"

"Tyler, I need to talk to you. Alone. Please," I manage to spit out before my throat closes in on itself.

"Addy, what's wrong?"

"I..." Come on, Addy. You're so close. Just say it. No matter how much it'll hurt Tyler, you have to tell him. "Do you remember that party? From a week ago?"

He nods. "Yeah. What about it? Why? Did something happen? Did Eric give you a hard time? Oh, that dude is dead." It's sweet how quick he is to jump to my defense. Too bad it's about the wrong person.

I shake my head, crying, and say, "No. Someone else."

Tyler looks angry, as he should. I can't tell if it's a good thing or not. "What? Who? Tell me. I'm serious, Addy. Tell me and I'll kick his or her ass."

"Paul," I gasp out so quietly I'm not sure if he heard me. I hold myself steady against the counter and take deep breaths. "Paul. It was Paul." I did it. I told Tyler. Everything will be okay now. "H-He came into my room—"