Chapter 6

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It's when Rory winces again that we find the bruises. All over his stomach. Some on his chest. They take him to the hospital two towns over. Mom and Dad take me home.

"How can you be so irresponsible, Jackson?" shouts my mom from the front seat. "What on earth would compel you to, just, run off the trail like that?" She keeps talking and Dad gets in a word every now and then when Mom stops to breathe.

I'm staring out the window. We're moving back to the Cottage at a snail's pace, the rain coming down harder and harder. It gets to the point where it makes a curtain around the car and I can't see the outside world anymore. So I look away and answer my parents' questions with one-word answers. Even then, Dad takes over for Mom's screaming. Not at me, but at the traffic ahead.

It doesn't matter what I say. They're too riled up.

I shift in my seat.

Maybe I should come clean to our parents, that I've been manipulating them to turn against Rory.

Maybe I need to confess that I've been reading Rory's journal.

I sink into my seat.

The Harwoods're gone for the rest of the afternoon, and I don't think to ask what happened. By the time they get back, it's pitch black outside and they've brought a lot of Chinese food for dinner.

Rory's glaring. Not to anyone in particular, but just in general. His left arm's in a sling, his face is pale, and he doesn't look that comfortable.

His glare intensifies when he sees me. "Holy shit, what happened?"

"Language, Jackson," Mom spits, pushing passed me. "What happened?"

Mr. Harwood sighs. "Some bruising, a fracture. Nothing serious."

I swallow. I didn't think my head'd be so heavy.

"He didn't say how he got them, though." Mr. Harwood's eyes scan my way. "Jackson," he says, in a low, menacing tone, "do you know?"

"Yes, sir. He tripped over my head." I open my mouth and my insides feel all twisted up. "We...were tripping a lot in the rain...sir," is what I manage to say. I'm tempted to follow up with something else, but the conversation's moved on.

"Go get some rest," he says to Rory. "I'll be up in a little with some painkillers and frozen food."

Rory nods and bumps my shoulder. He climbs the stairs and closes the door.

I don't hear it click.

"You, are going to go apologize. Right now," Dad warns.

I nod and go upstairs.

Anything to get me away from them right now.

"Hey, uh...I'm sorry," I say as I step in.

Rory's in the chair by the window. He's not looking at me. "So kind."

I roll my eyes and kick the door shut. "You gonna do that all summer?"

"I dunno," he says, glancing back at me. He sniffs. His nose sounds stuffed up. "You gonna be a little bitch all summer?"

"Wow, how original."

"You lied to them," he says, glaring.

"I don't want everyone to hate me."

"You don't wanna experience the hell you've put me in?" he asks, cocking his head.

"You had it coming, ass."

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