I sit at my vanity, putting the final touches on my makeup while I wait for Sandeep to pick me up.
He’s been so sweet through all of this, really. So supportive. So perfect. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. Tonight will be our fourth date, and I think I’ll ask if he wants to make it official. Make Riley and Sandeep an us.
At first I wasn’t sure if Sandeep would be into dating me again, especially after what happened last time we went out, but when he found out that Alex Belrose had manipulated me against my will and tried to ruin my life . . . he understood. And how could he not? Any good guy would understand.
I finish my mascara and blink at myself in the mirror. There’s nothing there to show that a few weeks prior, I was a girl being mentally held hostage by an insane, delusional man who believed I really loved him. Nothing to show that I was helpless. Nothing to show that I was about to watch three people die.
Or that I was about to take a tour of several nationally syndicated talk shows to speak about my experience. Or that soon, I was going to be on the cover of Clare for their “Teens Who Rock” issue. They’re calling me brave. They’re calling me a heroine. And I understand why.
Anyone else would have broken under that kind of pressure. That kind of stress.
But not me.
I made it out alive. I made it out valedictorian. And it’ll probably take me some time to heal, which is perfectly understandable, but I’ll be okay.
Fighters always are.
Naturally, I had to figure some details out creatively to connect the dots, but it wasn’t like it mattered. Alex didn’t make it off the cliff and I did, and I needed, after all this, to be perfect, just like I always had been, in order to be okay. And if Alex loved me like he said he really did, he would have understood that.
I lean forward and touch the tiny red line below my eye, where a bit of metal hit me when the car exploded. I wince. It still hurts. It will leave a small scar. But it’s nothing compared to what Alex did to me. Nothing.
It’s too bad about the scar. And too bad so many people had to die. But so much good has come of all of it for me. I’m rising.
There is a knock at my door, and my father opens it, very slowly, as if he doesn’t want to startle me. “Sweetie?” he asks.
“Yes?” I smile at him in the mirror.
“Your date is here.” His voice is soft. That’s how they talk to me now. They pay attention when I enter the room. They make sure I get enough to eat. They smile at me, albeit a bit sadly, when they think I’m not looking.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll let him know.”
Dad closes the door.
I tie a dark pink ribbon in my hair and then uncap a tube of lipstick.
I won’t put on too much, of course.