Amends: A Love Story (20 page)

"Maybe a little from column B," she says
softly.

"Let me make it up to you now."

Then I forget all about the accident, my
guilty conscience, and everything else except Amity. My Amity.

/////////////////////////

We're drifting off to sleep when we hear the
soft rumble of a text alert. Amity reaches for my antique
nightstand where our phones—identical models—are resting against
each other. She hands my phone to me. "It's for you," she says in a
low, sleepy voice.

I type in my pass code,
dread blooming in my chest. It's Ember.
Shit.
I'm going to have to deal with
her tomorrow.

Chapter 23: Amity

I wake up next to Laird, drifting on a gentle
wave of pure contentment. I snuggle against him, luxuriating in the
warmth of his body. I stretch slightly and notice my back and legs
are sore. I blush furiously, remembering how we took each other
again and again, ravenous for each other's touch. My lips are
bruised from too much kissing, and I feel pleasantly tired, like
I've just finished running a race.

The sun is just starting to come up, and soft
light is shining through the small crack between the thick,
floor-length curtains covering Laird's wall of windows. I feel
happy and relaxed, like I'm exactly where I belong. The last time I
was here in Laird's bed watching him sleep, I was prickly with fear
and uncertainty. But not today. Instead of running out like I did
last time, I'm going to stay right where I am and watch the room
get bright. When Laird wakes up, I'm going to look into his eyes
and smile.

I wonder if Laird sets an alarm or lets
himself sleep until noon. If he's a late sleeper, I'll bring some
schoolwork next time. I could study while he sleeps, memorizing
chemical formulae while basking in the afterglow of another
wonderful night. For this morning, I'll have to content myself with
the basking. Laird murmurs in his sleep. I wonder if he's about to
wake up, but he quiets as fast as he stirred. He shifts position
slightly, and I sit up, so his head is resting against my side.

Last night with Laird was so different from
the night I spent with Joe or whatever his name was in the city. I
feel oddly guilty that I didn't tell Laird about it. Some part of
me feels that I shouldn't have given up on him so fast, that I
should have been at home studying and patiently waiting instead of
out having fun. But I know that's ridiculous. As far as I knew,
Laird and I had had a one night encounter. Besides, my night with
Joe or whoever really did mean nothing, and I used condoms every
time—with Laird and with Joe.

I glance back down at Laird's face. His eyes
are half open, and his mouth shapes itself into a sleepy smile.
"Amity, you look serious. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I say, stroking his hair. "Nothing
at all."

/////////////////////////

Breakfast at the house is an informal buffet.
The only thing that strikes me as odd is the pledges wearing frilly
pink aprons and cooking breakfast foods to order. At least, I
think, they're friendly.

A tall, scrawny pledge with a spray of acne
covering his right cheek greets me. "Mistress Amity, how are
you?"

"Oh fine," I reply, and then it clicks. He
was leading the group that tackled Ethan. "Thank you again," I
add.

"No problem." He smiles broadly and points at
several covered hot plates. "Bacon, sausage, or ham?"

I get a few slices of each. Laird asked me to
make plates for both of us. I pass through the rest of the buffet
and return with a tray covered with a little of everything—eggs,
meats, and toast for Laird, and pancakes, strawberries, and Belgian
waffles for me.

When I return to Laird, he's dismissing the
pale-haired pledge master who once asked me to spit on the pledges.
He reminds me of a weasel. I'm glad when he slinks off, leaving
Laird to me.

Laird grabs a slice of bacon. "That breakfast
looks awesome." He beams as if I'd made it myself instead of just
assembling it.

"Thanks," I say, popping a strawberry into my
mouth. It's surprisingly ripe, and I lick my lips to keep the berry
juice from dripping down my chin.

Laird inhales sharply and whispers in my ear.
"Do you want to go back upstairs? I have the energy if you do."

I giggle and let my hair fall into my face to
hide my reddening cheeks. I'm about to take him up on his offer
when his friend Teo appears by our table wearing a white
bathrobe.

"Hey, Amity. Do you mind if I borrow Laird
for a few minutes? We have a Code Five." Teo is smiling, but
there's something tense in his expression. He obviously needs
Laird's help with something important.

I smile back at him. "Not at all. You two
kids have fun."

"You better leave some bacon for me!" calls
Laird as he follows Teo into the lounge area.

I polish off the Belgian waffle while Laird
does his frat president routine with Teo. I am happy and stuffed
and pleasantly drowsy. I decide this would be a great time to give
Maggie a rough outline of what's been happening with Laird. I've
kept her in the dark for too long.

I run upstairs to get my phone. On the way, I
pass a few brothers who look surprised to see me and murmur
something about a Code Five. When I get to Laird's room, I notice
the door is ajar. I step inside slowly and cautiously. The bed is
made, and someone is sitting on it. That someone is a compact,
curvy blonde with a turned-up nose and bright, wild eyes.

"Hi," she says in a clear, bell-like voice.
"I'm Ember. You must be Amity."

/////////////////////////

Ember is smiling, but her girlish voice drips
with poison. "Do you think you're Laird's girlfriend?" she
asks.

"N-n-no, er, I don't know. We haven't talked
about it." I am stammering badly, and I desperately want to run
away from this pretty little doll who reminds me of every mean girl
from high school.

"You're not delusional. That's good to know.
So, has Laird told you about me?"

"N-n-no." The blood rushes to my head as if
I've been turned upside down. I'm ninety-nine percent sure what
she's going to say next. I'm already cursing myself for believing
in Laird. He was obviously too good to be real.

Ember's smile widens, as if she's drawing
strength from my disillusionment. "Laird and I have a long history
together. I was his first girlfriend and his first love. I was
there for him when his mother died. We've been through a lot
together, and we're trying to work things out, if you know what I
mean."

I nod, and my eyes burn with angry tears.
"I'm sorry. I d-d-didn't know he had a girlfriend. I'll leave him
alone." I grab my phone and my small overnight bag, and prepare to
leave. My toothbrush is still in the bathroom, but I don't care.
I'll buy another one.

"Not so fast," says Ember, who seems almost
disappointed that she's won so quickly. "There's something else you
should know about Laird. Something that I would want to know, if I
were you."

I hang in the doorway torn between my gut,
which is screaming at me to run away, and my brain, which is dying
of curiosity. After a brief struggle, my brain wins. I step back
inside.

"Alright. T-t-tell me."

Ember looks pleased. "Laird was in a serious
car accident almost three years ago. He was OK, but the other
driver died. She was a pediatric nurse married to a drunk. Can you
guess her name?"

My heart is pounding so fast and so loud I
can hear it. Laird was the other driver in Mom's accident? It seems
so surreal. My memories of those weeks following the accident flash
before my eyes—Mom's funeral, finding Dad's body, Dad's funeral,
and learning about Mom's affair. I barely even thought of the other
driver except as the dark hand of some malignant God. His name must
have been on one of the myriad police reports and insurance forms I
signed, but I can't remember through the fog of grief.

I struggle to breathe the air in this new,
awful reality, but Ember doesn't seem to notice. "Laird has been
consumed by guilt since the accident, even though your mother was
on pills. He's been trying to do something for you for years. He
told me the other day that he found a way to give you money from
his trust fund. I think sent it to your grandmother with a lot of
paperwork that made it look like a lottery check."

"Trust fund?" I gasp, shaking. "Laird never
mentioned a trust fund."

Ember rolls her eyes at my ignorance. "He's
the only son of Josiah fucking Conroy. Of course, he has a trust
fund. Although I guess you wouldn't know that, coming from Triple
Marsh."

I ignore the insults, and try to focus on the
facts. Laird was the other driver in Mom's accident. He's been
racked by guilt since. He gave part of his trust find to Gran. It
occurs to me that he must have lied to me on the day we met at the
cemetery by my parents' graves. There's no way Josiah Conroy's wife
is buried at Forever Acres. He must have been visiting my mom's
grave, seeking some kind of absolution.

In a sick way, what Ember's told me explains
a lot. Until recently, he's hovered around the periphery of my life
like some kind of guilt-ridden guardian angel. I can't believe he
thought that giving Gran money would somehow make everything OK. A
wave of nausea threatens to bring up my breakfast onto Laird's
forest green braided rug.

I bring my hand to my mouth, still not
trusting my stomach. My face and hands are moist with the cold
sweat of shock. Ember looks cool and comfortable, like a chilled
peach. I want to curse her into oblivion, but I know my stammer
won't let me.

I turn to leave, but Ember isn't done.
"That's why he hangs out with you. It's guilt. He wants to know
that poor little orphan Amity is doing just great without her mom
and dad."

That's it. I'm done, even if Ember isn't. I
run out of the room and smash right into Laird. When I step back
and look into his eyes, I see flashes of affection, guilt, and
fear. I will my eyes to stay dry and ask the only question that
matters, "Is it true?"

"Yes, but..."

The first syllable is enough for me. I fly
down the stairs and out of the frat. I practically run across
campus to the vast, deserted biological sciences lab, where I can
cry as long as I want without witnesses.

Chapter 24: Laird

"Ember, why did you do that?"

I am too shocked to feel anger. I watch her
lounge on my bed, so cool and self possessed. She looks more
beautiful than ever. I realize she must have dressed up for this
visit, hoping to surprise and beguile me. Her hair is smooth and
glossy, and she's wearing a low-cut cream-colored top that brings
out the peachy color of her skin. I know her presence here is
partly my fault. I shouldn't have ignored all her texts. I should
have said something. Anything.

Her face is maddeningly calm. "I thought you
were going to leave that girl alone."

"I was," I say, struggling for the right
words. "We have a connection. It's hard to explain. Like I told
you, she gets me. I couldn't resist her. She couldn't resist me. It
just sort of happened."

Ember sighs, and a small crease appears on
her otherwise smooth forehead. "Let me see if I understand. She
'just gets you' because she's an orphan. And she's an orphan
because we killed her mom, which caused her dad to drink himself to
death. That's unbelievably fucked up."

I close my eyes and open them again. I really
wish Ember hadn't come here. "I know. Believe me, I know. But that
doesn't change what I feel for her and what I think she feels for
me. You had no right to interfere."

Ember raises one pale, perfectly shaped
eyebrow. "Sounds like you were going to keep sleeping with her
without telling her what you'd done. That's wrong."

Finally, my angers stirs, more so because
Ember is one hundred percent right. "I was going to tell her.
Eventually."

Ember rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure. When you
got tired of boning her?"

Damn her. She's acting like I was planning to
use Amity and then throw her away. "No, of course not. I was going
to tell when the time was right. For both of us."

Ember's face hardens into a tight mask.
"When, exactly, is the right time to tell a girl you killed her
mother? You never would have told her. Never. You're father is
right. You're just a big pussy."

My hands clench into fists, and my nails dig
into my palms. The angry buzzing in my ears becomes a roar. I bite
the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. It helps to clear my
head. I am not going to let her turn me into a raging teenager.

I take a deep breath and try to speak calmly
and coolly. "The way you told her was cruel. I'm sure you implied
you were my girlfriend—which, in case you're confused, hasn't been
true for years—and conveniently omitted your own role in the
accident."

Ember's mask slips a little, and her eyes
moisten with tears. "Yes, maybe I was a little cruel. But I was
doing the right thing. That girl needed to know what you did. And
you know it couldn't have worked out between you two. You killed
her mother. She's not going to let that go. Believe me, I did you a
favor."

I sit on the bed next to Ember and take both
her hands in mine. Our bond has always been dark and complicated,
but now I know without a doubt that it has to end.

"Ember," I say softly. "You'll always be a
part of my history, and I'll remember you fondly for the rest of my
life. But tomorrow I'm going to call my lawyer and get a
restraining order. And if you ever come anywhere near me or Amity
again, I'll have your pretty little ass thrown in jail."

/////////////////////////

I should be at football practice. Instead,
I'm sitting on a bench in front of Amity's dorm. I realize I've
never even been to her room, and I curse Ember for probably the
hundredth time today. I've got to talk to Amity, but she won't
answer her phone, and I haven't seen her on Facebook. I feel
terrible that I didn't tell her myself, and even worse that she
learned the truth from Ember. I want to throw myself at her feet
and beg forgiveness for everything.