One of Us Is Next (One of Us Is Lying, #2)

by Karen M. McManus

My eyes find the only person at the table I can always count on for an unfiltered reaction: Nate. He looks from my tense face to the salt still scattered across our table and shakes his head like he knows the superstitious bet I made with myself. I can read the gesture as plainly as if he spoke: It doesn’t mean anything, Maeve. It’s just a game.

“Por favor, Dios, llévame a mi en su lugar. Yo por ella. Por favor.” Even though I was barely conscious, I thought, No, God, don’t listen, because I reject any prayer that has my dad asking to take my place.

This is what happens when you’re bad at making friends: you end up with ones you don’t particularly like.

If I ever actively chose somebody instead of just letting myself get pulled into whatever orbit will have me.

“Thanks but no thanks,” she says in a loud, clear voice. “If I wanted to be bored and disappointed, I’d just watch you play baseball.” Then she takes a large, deliberate bite from a bright green apple.

Because I was drunk. Sure, but that’s just an excuse. Alcohol doesn’t make me do stuff I wouldn’t otherwise do. It just gives me a push to do things I would’ve done anyway.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those pretty girls who insists she’s not pretty. That’s tired. You’re hot, own it.

“I just didn’t realize you had your life figured out already,” I tell him. “I’m impressed.” “I don’t, really. I just do stuff I like and see how it goes.”

Bronwyn used to tell me, when we were younger, that I had crushes on unattainable boys because they were safe. “You like the dream, not the reality,” she’d say. “So you can keep your distance.”

“What fresh hell are these monsters up to now?”

I don’t understand why the world insists on stuffing kids into boxes we never asked for, and then gets mad when we won’t stay there.

“I mean in general,” Addy continues. “We’re all afraid of putting ourselves out there and not getting anything in return. The thing is, though, nobody looks back on their life thinking, ‘Damn, I wish I’d been less honest with the people I care about.’ ”

“How do you make that choice?” I ask, almost to myself. “Between what you need and what you want?”

Now, I can’t stop thinking about how rare it is to have someone you can be completely real with, even when things get raw and uncomfortable and a little scary. Especially then.

You can’t change the past,

All you can do is try harder next time.

Nate gets off his motorcycle just in time to catch Bronwyn as she goes flying toward him. Her arms wrap around his neck as he spins her around, and I turn away with a smile so they can have their reunion kiss in private. “Endgame,” I say to the empty room.

“Knox?” Dad’s voice stops me. Footsteps follow until he’s framed in the kitchen doorway, a bottle of Bud Light in one hand. The faint yellowish glow of our light fixture deepens every crease in his face. “How was the wedding?” “Oh.” I’m blank for a minute. The wedding already feels like it was months ago. “It was…good, I guess. You know. As good as it could be, under the circumstances.” He nods heavily. “Yeah. Sure.” “Nate was there,” I add. “He looked good. He was joking around, didn’t seem like he was in too much pain or anything.” I clear my throat. “It’s really great, what you’re doing for him. You know, the disability stuff. Everybody kept saying…how great it was. Is. Will be.” Jesus. You can stop babbling anytime, Knox. “Company policy,” Dad says stiffly. “I know, but, like…you make the policy,” I point out. To my surprise, his face breaks into a smile. “I guess I do.” It’s as good a time as any to say what I’ve been meaning to tell him for a while. “Dad, I’m really sorry about cutting through the mall site. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not that I don’t listen to you, or respect your work. I do, a lot. I was just being thoughtless.” The lines of his face soften. “Well. You’re seventeen. That’s gonna happen sometimes, I guess.” He takes a gulp of beer and looks at the floor. “I owe you an apology, too. I shouldn’t have said you’re not a hard worker. I know you are.” His voice gets gruff. “And another thing. You were smart last night, and brave, and even though I w...

Maybe I just have a thing for wounded heroes. Or maybe Future Phoebe, who could appreciate someone like Knox, isn’t as far away as I thought.