Chapter 9: The Roof

I put my dress back on and crossed the yard barefoot.

I went up the stairs two at a time.

The door to Drake's room stood open and the bed was made.

His window was open too, and the curtain moved in the night air.

I climbed out onto the porch roof.

The shingles were still warm from the day.

He sat at the far end with his back against the chimney and one knee up, holding a beer he wasn't drinking.

From there you could see over the fence to the pool house, the pool, the whole dark yard.

You could see the pool house door.

"You heard," I said.

"Yeah."

"All of it."

I sat down on the shingles three feet from him, with my arms around my knees.

My face was burning.

I couldn't tell if it was shame, or something worse and warmer, and I decided not to look at it.

"I need to tell you something," I said. "And I need you not to say anything until I'm finished."

"Okay."

"Last night. In my room."

He didn't move.

"I wasn't asleep," I said. "I was awake for all of it. Every second."

"I heard what everyone said. I felt everything. I knew it was Dean, and then Finley, and then you."

My voice cracked on the last word.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know why I did it."

"I lay there and let you think I didn't know. I'm your stepsister, and I'm so sorry."

I waited.

The crickets had started up in the hedge.

"Are you finished?" Drake said.

"Yes."

"Good."

He set the beer down on the shingles.

"I know you were awake," he said.

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