Did I Mention I Love You?

by Estelle Maskame

  “Oh my God,” he says. “What does it matter?”

  Ella spins back around to meet my eyes. I’m still holding my breath at this point, and I fear I might turn blue. “Eden, where did he go?”

  They all lock their eyes on me. Ella’s stare is stern, Tiffani’s expression is livid, and Tyler’s eyes are wide, like he’s begging me not to screw up, pleading for me to think of something. “Um, he dropped me off at Meghan’s and then he changed his plans,” I lie, praying that my thought process is logical. “He hung out with the guys instead.”

  “See,” Tyler murmurs, reaching for Tiffani’s elbow as he takes a step toward her, but she shakes him off.

  “Don’t talk to me,” she spits, placing a hand on his chest and shoving him back into the hall. “Eden, come with me. We need to talk to Rachael and Meghan. Right now.” The look in her eyes warns me not to object, so I don’t. Instead, I shove the photo albums off to the side and scramble to my feet. She grasps my wrist when I near her, yanking me out of the living room and into the hall. She purposely barges into Tyler as she pulls me past him.

  I can tell that he is furious as he glares after us, his hands balled into fists as we disappear out of the front door. I don’t even have time to fetch my shoes, so I’m hauled across the lawn in my bare feet before Tiffani gives me no option but to get into her car.

  And the second she gets into the driver’s seat and shuts the door, she bursts into tears. It’s a full-blown sob, and she buries her face into her hands and weeps against the steering wheel. Her chest rises and lowers at an erratic pace as she struggles to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, but then angrily roll my eyes at myself. Of course she’s not okay. Turning around to face her, I stretch out my arm to soothingly rub her back. It doesn’t seem to do any good. “What’s wrong?”

  There are some more long sobs before she lifts her head and wipes her eyes with her thumbs. Her breathing is still uneven as she puts the car in drive and pulls on her seat belt. “You’re not going to believe it,” she whimpers as her mascara leaves trails down her cheeks. “Rach and Meg are meeting us at my place. I need to just—I need to vent.”

  We drive in silence down to her place, and I’m thankful that she lives in the same neighborhood. I don’t think I’d be able to cope with the sound of her crying for anything longer than ten minutes. But those whole ten minutes, nonetheless, are spent with my stomach in knots. I’m pretty sure Tyler is the reason for her tears.

  Rachael’s and Meghan’s cars are already parked on Tiffani’s driveway when we get there, and they quickly step out of their vehicles and come rushing over to us the second we pull up.

  “Aww, Tiff! Did it go wrong?” Rachael is the first to pull her into her arms, offering her a tight hug. “Remember, he’s my neighbor, so I can easily sneak across in the middle of the night and cut his balls off if you’d like.”

  Now I know it’s definitely Tyler’s fault, and I wonder if perhaps she’s just upset that he ditched her to hang out with his friends. But even that seems too pathetic to be sobbing over. It must be something bigger.

  “How many times have we warned you?” Meghan asks, taking Tiffani’s hand in hers and leading her up to the front door. “Tiff, you know this isn’t the first time.”

  “Those other times were rumors,” Tiffani groans, letting out another tremendous sob. “This time there’s proof!”

  “Proof of what?” I ask as we all shuffle inside the house. No one has yet explained why she’s crying.

  “Oh my God, Eden, please stay in the loop,” Rachael mutters as she shoots me a glare, and then glances back at Tiffani with a sympathetic pout. She still doesn’t answer my question, and soon we’re all hauling ourselves up the huge staircase and into Tiffani’s room, where she collapses on her bed.

  “Start from the beginning,” Meghan says softly as Tiffani inhales and exhales repeatedly. We’re all sitting before her on the mattress, like she is our queen and we are her servants. In a way, this is true.

  “I already told you,” Tiffani snaps, a little agitated. “I was getting the mail in the morning when Austin Cameron drove past and pulled up. He asked if I enjoyed my night with Tyler, and he kept winking at me like the fucking pervert that he is. I asked him what his deal was, and he said he saw us late last night by the pier. I wasn’t at the pier.”

  If I thought I wasn’t breathing before, I’m certainly not breathing now. My mouth drops open as I stare at her. I realize that Tyler isn’t the reason that she’s crying.

  I am.

  “Did you tell Austin that it wasn’t you?” Rachael asks. She pats Tiffani’s knee as though it will comfort her.

  “Of course I told him,” Tiffani murmurs in between even more sobs as she starts tearing up again. “He said he definitely saw Tyler ‘getting it on’ in his car in the fucking parking lot. He automatically assumed it was me, because obviously he’s going to assume that—I’m Tyler’s girlfriend.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” Meghan murmurs. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  Tiffani squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I asked Austin if it was definitely Tyler’s car, and he said he was positive, he’d recognize it anywhere. He said it was definitely his license plate. So of course I asked if he remembers seeing anything about whoever this girl was, but he told me it was only outlines.” A sudden growl erupts in her throat as she hurls her fist into the closest pillow. “Why the hell does Tyler have tinted windows? I thought they were illegal and now I’m starting to understand why. They let the cheaters cheat!”

  Oh my God, I think. This is all my fault.

  “He told me he was with the guys, but he told his mom that he was with me! He’s a fucking liar!” More fist slams and punches and clawing as she destroys everything within reach. I can’t even begin to imagine how she’d react if she knew it was me. “The entire time he was just hooking up with some whore! I feel so sick. I’m actually going to throw up. Oh God.” She clasps her hands to her stomach and drops her head low.

  “You need to just break up with him, Tiffani,” Rachael says, her tone slightly condescending, as though she’s speaking to a small child experiencing their first kindergarten romance.

  “But I just can’t!” she wails as her hair falls over her eyes, and off go the tears again. She pulls her comforter up to her face to dry her cheeks off. It doesn’t take long for the material to get soaked straight through. “I need him.”

  “Maybe Austin just misinterpreted it?” I try, forcing the words out of my mouth. My throat is completely dry, but I try my hardest nonetheless to keep my voice from cracking or trembling. Act clueless, I tell myself. Act innocent.

  “Okay,” Rachael says, straining her neck to give me a disapproving look. “Eden, I know he’s your family and all, but please don’t defend him.”

  “I’m not,” I try to object. I feel as small as ever, and the truth is, I’m not defending Tyler. I’m defending myself.

  For twenty minutes, we listen to Tiffani rant and vent and curse until she calms down. The entire time, I sit in silence in fear of saying something that’ll give myself away. Rachael suggests different methods of retribution while Meghan offers to go out and get ice cream, but Tiffani says no, because, “If I’m fat, he’ll only want to cheat on me even more.” This comment doesn’t sit well with me. Is she trying to imply that bigger girls aren’t attractive? That guys don’t go for girls that have a bit of body to them? I don’t know. But it still pisses me off.

  Eventually she claims that she just wants to sleep, so we take it as our cue to leave. She needs space, and I’m certainly grateful to finally be getting out of there. Rachael offers to give me a ride back home again, saving me from having to walk across the neighborhood barefoot.

  “Call us again if anything else happens,” Meghan says as we all hover by the door. Tiffani is still sprawling out across her bed, rolling over every so often. “You have to keep us updated.”

  “I will,” sh
e sniffs. “Can I talk to Eden for a second?”

  Rachael and Meghan exchange glances with me, and I contemplate begging them not to leave me here alone with her. But before I get the chance to even plead for mercy, Rachael says, “Sure. I’ll wait for you in the car, Eden,” and they both leave.

  The room falls into silence as Tiffani buries her face into her comforter. Her words are muffled as she speaks. “What we say in this room stays in this room. Don’t even think about telling Tyler anything we just said.”

  “I won’t,” I almost squeak, my eyes drifting out into the hall as I stare longingly at the staircase. “I hope you’re okay.”

  “I’m not,” she says. “But, Eden?”

  “Yeah?”

  Pushing her body up, she crosses her legs and stares across the room at me with her swollen eyes. Somehow she presses her lips together, her jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. Something flickers within her blue eyes, something new that I’ve never seen before, an expression so twisted and so sharp that for a moment she frightens me. “I know you weren’t with Meghan last night, because I was.”

  Chapter 23

  Tyler is standing in the hall when I get back to the house. His arms are folded across his chest, his jaw clenched, eyes fierce. He looks as though he’s about to step foot into a boxing ring, ready to knock some brain damage into his opponent. The problem is that I don’t know who the enemy is.

  “What’d she say?” he spits in contempt. As he approaches me, he drops his arms and curls his hands into fists. “What did you say?”

  I shake my head as I peer around his tall frame, glancing into the living room. Ella is gone and so are the photo albums. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Picking up Chase,” he says quickly, his voice gruff. “Now what the hell happened?”

  I take a deep breath, my eyes trained on his hardened features as I try to make sense of everything. I’m scared to death. “Someone saw us last night,” I splutter, and bile rises in my throat once more. “Austin Cameron… He told Tiffani.”

  Tyler’s eyes widen in shock before faltering back into a cold glare. “Are you kidding me?” he growls. A wave of adrenaline seems to flow down his arms, and he hurls one fist at his other palm, creating a loud slap as his knuckles smack his own skin. “I will floor that motherfu—”

  “They don’t know it was me,” I cut in quickly, my voice quiet and raspy as I interlock my fingers over and over again. My eyes fall to the floor as my chest tightens. “She’s devastated, Tyler.”

  She’s not just upset; she’s furious. I feel like she might be on to us. She now knows that both Tyler and I lied about where we were last night, and despite my horrendous attempt at trying to explain, she made it clear that she plans to figure out what I’m hiding. In retrospect, I probably could have come up with something better than I did. But I was under pressure, so I rambled that I’d lied because Dad and Ella would only let me leave the house if they knew I was going somewhere safe. Convincing? Not for Tiffani. I don’t think I can possibly face her again.

  Silence ensues for a moment. Tyler relaxes his fists as he heaves a sigh. From beneath my eyelashes, I watch as he rubs the back of his neck before running his hand back through his hair. “I’ll fix this,” he says quietly. His words make me look up again, my eyes meeting his. “Look, she’s pissed off. I get it, but I can make it up to her. I’ll tell her I made a mistake, I’ll buy her something nice, and then she’ll forget about it and everything will be fine again. And then we can figure the rest out.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. With my lips pressed into a firm line, I grit my teeth and glower at him. “Everything won’t be fine,” I say tersely, spitting out each word. “Nothing is fine, Tyler! This needs to stop.”

  “What needs to stop?”

  “This.” I throw my hands up in surrender as I motion back and forth between the two of us. I shouldn’t have let any of this get this far in the first place. Now I’m in too deep. Three make-out sessions too deep. “You have a girlfriend, Tyler. I refuse to be a cheater.”

  “You won’t be,” he says firmly, but then the corners of his lips curl into a smile, and he takes a few steps toward me and reaches for my elbow. The warmth of his skin creates a wave of goose bumps down my arms as he pulls me toward him, and I glance up to meet his closing eyes as he leans down to lock his lips with mine. Immediately, I yank my arm out of his grasp and spiral away from his body. He stands there, his hands hovering in midair as his eyes slowly snap open to glare at me.

  But I only blink at him as I try to figure out what is running through his mind right now. He’s quite clearly insane. After a long pause, I finally ask, “Are you serious? Now really isn’t the time. Even if you could completely guarantee that she wouldn’t find out—which she will—I still wouldn’t do this anyway.” I take a step back and wave my hands in front of me, my head shaking, a lump in my throat. “I am not doing this.”

  “C’mon.” He has wiped the smile from his lips, but the smugness in his eyes still remains. In disgust, I spin around and march halfway up the staircase before he mumbles, “We can figure this out.”

  “How, Tyler?” I demand as I twirl back around, gripping the banister and peering down at him. “We only have two options.”

  “Only two?”

  “Two,” I confirm. I stare down at his smoldering eyes, and I picture Tiffani and her smeared mascara and muffled sobs and tear-stained pillows. He couldn’t care less. “You have to break up with her.”

  “No,” he objects with a firm shake of his head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  To start with, I think he might ignore my question. He takes a while to think of an answer. “Because it’s more complicated than you think it is, alright? Tiffani’s… Look, don’t push it.” He pauses and fixes me with a look that tells me not to challenge him, so despite how frustrated I feel, I just frown and wait for him to speak again. “What’s the other option?”

  “We ignore whatever we have between us.” It hurts to say it, but I know it makes sense. If he wants to stay with Tiffani, then we have to act like stepsiblings and nothing more. No discreet flirting, no stolen kisses, no sexual remarks. But if he wants that, then he can’t be with Tiffani. Because doing both is infamously known as cheating.

  “So basically,” he starts as he folds his arms across his chest, “I get to be with you if I break up with Tiffani? It’s you or her, right?” The conceited expression is long gone by now. It’s been replaced with an aggravated glower, his eyes narrowed into small slits, his chin tilted up as he studies me. I don’t think it’s me he’s mad at though. I think he’s angry at the situation. I am too.

  “Why are you acting surprised? That ultimatum is pretty obvious,” I remark dryly. “You should have known that it was going to come to this.”

  As he clenches his jaw, he throws his head back and runs both hands through his hair. He mutters something under his breath before he turns around and stalks into the kitchen. I stomp my way into my room and slam the door loud enough for him to hear.

  It’s only a matter of seconds before I begin doubting everything and torturing myself with questions. The biggest question of them all is this: why am I even attracted to Tyler in the first place?

  I honestly cannot think of an acceptable answer. The whole thing is wrong. I’m attracted to my stepbrother, for starters, and the thought of anyone finding out is too much to bear. We’d be judged and frowned upon, banished from society. But it’s not just the stepbrother complication that’s got me baffled. It’s the fact that he has so many flaws, which I should hate, but I simply can’t bring myself to. At least not now. Why am I so fascinated by a guy who doesn’t seem to care about anything? I should hate him for being such an arrogant, egotistic jerk. But I can no longer despise him, despite how many inappropriate comments he makes, how many joints he smokes, and how much alcohol he consumes in the space of an hour, because I’m entirely convinced by now that he’s not simply doing it to look coo
l or to fit in with the guys he hangs out with. There’s something more to it all, something intriguing about who he really is beneath the tough guy that he’s trying to project. I’m so interested, so infatuated, and I’m falling for him.

  I really wish I wasn’t.

  Ella and Chase arrive home shortly after. She sticks her head into my room for a moment to check if I’m home yet, telling me that the house is too quiet and that it’s making her uncomfortable. I fake a small laugh before she heads next door to check on her eldest and most notorious son. I don’t remember hearing him disappear into his room, but I know he must have had the same idea as me, because I hear his voice through the walls.

  They bicker back and forth for a minute or so before Ella gives up and leaves him alone again. I wonder if it’s a repetitive cycle for her. She tries to get through to him, he yells back at her, she gives up. Over and over and over again. It seems like a part of her daily routine.

  She comes back up later to coax me out of my room for dinner. I’m reluctant to go downstairs, but she leaves no room for arguing, so I follow her to the kitchen. Dad and Chase are sat in their usual spots, their eyes following me as I make my way to the table. And Tyler’s there too, of course.

  “Hungry?” Dad asks, his tie loosened around his neck as he stretches back in his chair.

  “No,” I say as I force myself to maintain eye contact with him. I can feel Tyler’s death stare boring holes into my skin from across the table. “How was the meeting?”

  Dad shrugs. “It was alright.”

  “Dave,” Ella says as she places a dish of barbecue ribs on the table—at which Tyler gags—before moving over to Dad and placing her hands on his shoulders. “You said it went really well.”

  He glances up at her as she soothingly rubs her thumbs over the back of his neck, and his lips quirk into a smile as they hold each other’s gaze. He used to smile at my mom that way, back when they were happy together. Those small gestures and exchanges stopped long before the divorce. “Hmm,” he says as his eyes move back over to meet mine. “The meeting went great.”