BooksBarbecue
Back The House Party
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. April 2008
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. Author’s Note
  55. Acknowledgments
  56. About the Author
  57. About the Publisher

It felt better to kiss than to talk. Easier. Thoughts tried to crowd in, but she pushed them away. As long as they were kissing, she didn’t have to think. She’d wondered if she would be able to do this again, but it felt okay. She just wanted to feel normal. To be wanted. She kissed his neck, and then she pulled back from him. Her head felt hazy from the vodka.

“Do you want to?” she asked, leaving the question half-spoken.

“Maddie,” Will said, and then there was a long pause. He drew her face forward and kissed the top of her head. “I want to. But is it a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” she asked. But she had a sinking feeling that she knew what he meant. She’d been right—he didn’t want to sleep with her. She was damaged goods.

Will seemed to understand what she was thinking. “No. I mean, after what happened,” he said. “Are you okay?”

Maddie was already pulling away. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she snapped. She felt close to tears.

“Because we’re worried about you,” Will said.

“Really?” Maddie asked. “Because it seems like everyone is a lot more worried about what happened to that house, and whether or not they’re going to get caught and get in trouble.”

“I’m worried about you,” Will said. His voice sounded strained, too high. Maddie realized that he didn’t want to be having this conversation any more than she did.

“I don’t want people to worry about me. I just want things to go back to how they were,” she said, gulping back a sob.

“Maddie,” Will said, “maybe you should go to the police. What that kid did isn’t okay. I could probably give the police a description if you thought it would help.”

“No,” Maddie said quickly. “They would know that you were at the party.”

“I don’t care,” Will said. “I think they know anyway. Maybe it’s better if we come forward. I wanted to, that night. Trip asked me not to say anything. But if it would help you . . .”

“No,” Maddie said again. “I don’t want to tell anyone. It’s probably better to just forget it ever happened.” It looked like Will was going to argue with her, and she suddenly felt as if she needed to get away. She couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her—with pity. She stood and picked up her backpack. “I’m going to call my mom for a ride,” she said. And then she jumped down from the tree house and took off through the woods, not turning to see if Will came after her.

18

Detective Murray was just pulling into police headquarters on Friday when his phone buzzed. He answered, listened for a minute, and then let out a low whistle before dialing Jake Tillman’s number.