Chapter 31

Robin

“Get him out of here, I can’t look at him,” I shout, turning away from Carter, not caring if the church windows are open, not caring if the whole world can hear me.

I turn back to him. “How could you do this? You know that music is the most important thing in my life! You know that! And you hid this from me?” I don’t bother signing. The words don’t matter anyway. He knows how I feel.

“Robin.” He signs the name-sign he gave me at the park all those weeks ago.

“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t you dare.”

He tries to sign something else, but my brain doesn’t care to wade through the pain of translation. I hold up a hand and turn to Jenni.

“Can you please take him home?” I ask her, my face hot, the tears practically evaporating before they have a chance to drip off my chin.

“Um, sure,” she says. She places her hands on my arms. “Are you okay? What happened? What do you mean he can hear?”

I look over my shoulder. Carter’s sitting on the rock I was just sitting on. The rock where he dumped me and I hugged him and kissed him before finding out what a liar and a fake he is.

“You know that implant? The kind that Trina has?”

She nods.

“He has one.”

She glances over my shoulder at Carter, who, I guess, is still sitting on that rock. “What?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together hard so I don’t cry even harder. I take a deep breath. “I felt the scar. On his head. In that same spot where Trina’s is. I don’t know why I’ve never felt it before, but I know that’s what it is.”

Jenni still looks confused. “But Trina’s CI is so obvious—I mean, it’s under her hair, yes, but it sits on the outside of her head.”

“No,” I say. Explaining something takes the focus from my heart to my head, giving me a chance to recover. “There are two parts to it—the outside part is removable but there’s a part that’s implanted right under the skin. That’s permanent. That’s what the scar is from.” I walk away, arms folded across my stomach, as though I could hold all the hurt in. I look back up at Jenni. “All he would’ve had to do is put on the outside part and switch it on. That’s all he would’ve had to do to hear me. That’s all.”

Jenni looks from me to him and then back to me before turning on one impressively high heel and enfolding me in a hug.

“Well that’s shitty, Robin. I’m so sorry.”

I pull away before I start crying again. I don’t want Carter to see me crying. I don’t want to share any more of myself with him. I just poured my soul out to a crowd full of people and the one person who mattered stomped on it and threw it away.

I look up at my best friend. “So can you please take him back to our house? The side door’s unlocked. He can get his stuff and leave. I never want to see him again.”

She glances over at him. “Okay… Are you sure, Robin?”

I nod. “I’m sure. And while he’s getting his stuff, can you go up to my computer and block him? I mean on everything—e-mail, Instagram, whatever. Everything.”

She nods slowly. “Okay…”

I walk over to Carter, who looks up when he sees my shadow. “Jenni’s taking you home,” I sign, mouth tight. I can’t look in his eyes. I focus on his shoulder instead. “I don’t want to see you again.”

He stands up. “Please,” he signs.

I shake my head, holding out a finger to stop him from coming any closer.

“I feel so stupid,” I sign, not able to find the right words to say that he’s a liar and a con and I feel taken in. I spent hours with him instead of practicing. I invited him into my town, my diner, my house. I took money from my guitar fund to buy pretty, lacy underwear. And he was laughing behind my back the whole time.

I sneak a look at his brown eyes and they’re red with crying, his face slack, drained.

“Please leave,” I sign. “Good-bye.”

“Please,” he signs one more time, taking another step closer to me.

“I don’t want to hear it!” I scream, stiffening up so I don’t explode. I look him in the eyes. “Just like you don’t want to hear me!”

His face turns stony and he steps back. “Fine,” he signs. His hands start to move, but he stops himself from saying anything more.

Head held high, he walks past me toward Jenni, who’s digging her keys out of her purse. She starts walking toward the parking lot and beckons him to follow her.

His shirt is soaked through the back with sweat. He walks like he’s fighting a river’s current. For half a second, I picture myself running after him, turning him around, kissing him and saying I’m sorry. Asking him why he never told me. Why he would ever do that to me. If he ever loved me at all. But my feet stay rooted to the ground, too stubborn to move.