Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Fifty-Two

-Andy's POV-

Chad had warned me that they were coming after the phonecall, so I hadn't been totally unprepared. I'd never unpacked my bags, so I simply gathered them up and moved to the living room, where I'd sat, playing video games on his massive system, waiting.

I remembered how he'd told me – "You didn't let anyone know you'd be staying here? That blows, man." I guess I shouldn't have expected much empathy from a frat boy.

I'd thanked him for letting me crash there, and promised I'd pay for the cost of the broken mirror. He'd laughed and said that it was fine – That I'd be paying for it enough with the seven years of bad luck and all. I'd grimaced, having forgotten about that myth – I didn't think I could take seven more years of this.

For the first time since I'd arrived there, I hadn't had a drop of alcohol all day – Partly because of the massive hangover I'd woken up with, but also because I had a feeling that the conversation I'd be having to deal with would be best done sober.

As the time for them to arrive drew nearer, I craved the blissful ignorance of being drunk – But I feared what stupid shit would come out of my mouth in an alcohol-dazen stupor. I'd already fucked up enough the night of the party.

My heart almost burst right out of my chest as I heard the doorbell ring and watched Chad go to open it. I turned the television off, setting the video game controller to the side, focusing on the frantic beating of my heart as I waited for the inevitable.

Sure enough, Blair walked into the room a few minutes later, looking exhausted. I wanted to shrink until there was nothing left of me, knowing how it looked – Like I'd just been hanging out here, not giving a fuck. And maybe the first impression that was given off wasn't entirely wrong.

Blair sat across from me, settling down for the talk that I'd known was coming.

"So, Andy," He began. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Because the queen couldn't make it?" I asked, attempting a joke to lighten the mood. My voice came out squeaky, like I'd swallowed a mouthful of helium.

"Because everyone's been worried sick about you." He clearly wasn't in a joking mood. I suddenly felt like a little kid again, after having knocked over a vase or something and having to own up to what I'd done.

"Do you have any idea or the sort of chaos you caused by running off like this? Nobody knew what had happened to you, or if you were even alive." The burning accusation hit me, letting me know that nobody was quite as ignorant and uncaring as I'd originally taken them for.

"I didn't mean to," I whispered.

"Whether or not you meant to, you still did."

"I'm sorry," I said, knowing that the two overused words were nowhere near enough.

"I'm gonna cut you some slack, because I know you've been through a lot lately. I just need to know why you did it." I repositioned myself, uncomfortable no matter how I sat. I was better prepared to be yelled at, not to explain my actions.

"I guess I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. You know, just somewhere to stay for the rest of the break."

"But you lied about where you were going, and never called anyone to say where you'd be. And you didn't come back at the end of break." I looked down, toying with a fraying edge of the couch.

"I guess I forgot. I didn't think anyone would care."

"People care. You are cared about." His voice was firm. "I want you to know that. You can't keep making decisions based on the thought that you aren't. I'm gonna need you to apologize once we get back to the car, and we're getting you a new phone tomorrow morning."

"Okay," I said. "Is everyone else in the car?" I asked. Blair nodded, and it made my stomach churn.

"One last thing. I haven't told the others yet, but since you're clearly in a sensitive place right now, I'll tell you first so you have time to process it." I waited nervously for him to continue.

"I got a call from Jack the other day." I nodded, unsure of where this was going. "It was to tell me that he'd be leaving Road Trip."

"Oh no. Oh, God," I said, burying my head into my hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is my fault."

"It isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is, because I fucked everything up, and here I am, doing just that once again .Fuck."

"Andy, he acted off of his own accords. I can't say for sure why, but it's not because of you."

I stopped fighting back, simply because I knew the truth: Even if he didn't know it, I was the reason that Jack left Road Trip. I couldn't bear knowing how upset the others would be, and how Rye would know...

"Do you think you're ready to go back?' Blair asked. And, no, I wasn't. But they were waiting for me, and it wasn't like I could just take off and hide in one of the many rooms in the house, so I simply said yes.

"Oh, Andy?" Blair asked, stopping me as I started to get up. "Do you think you're at risk for doing it again?" I knew what he was talking about.

"No." Yes.

"I still think you might want to consider going to therapy for this, okay? Do you...Do you still want to stay in Road Trip?"

"Yeah, yeah. And, no, I think I'm good." I answered quickly, plastering on a fake smile. "I'm fine, really."

"Okay. Now c'mere," Blair said, motioning that I come over and hug him.

Walking out to the car idling outside, full of the people that I knew I'd let down, was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do, second only to apologizing part. But, you know, it had to be done, difficult or not. Life went on.

Until it didn't anymore.