Picture of Erin (Emma Roberts!) on the side!
guilt /gilt/
Noun:
The fact of having committed a specified or implied offense or crime.
ex) She would have to live with the guilt of murdering her boyfriend for the rest of her life.
But what if I didn’t commit a crime? What if I didn’t murder my boyfriend? What if I committed a crime nobody knows of? Something I would have to live with for the rest of my life in secrecy. I’m not a murderer nor am I a pyromaniac or thief. I’m something just as bad.
“If you were hanging with me Erin, I would never let you cry regardless the reason,” Derek vowed solemnly as we sat in the back of a dim, vintage crab shack on a beach located a few miles away from Six Flags, “Never.”
I nodded, my phone vibrating in my pocket while my eyes slowly focusing on the crab legs in front of me as Drake cracked another leg and gingerly placed it on my plate.
“Tell me why you were crying,” he pleaded once more, “Come on Erin.”
I frowned, “Dra-”
“Erin,” he frowned sternly, “I care about you, tell me.”
Trevor’s death. Faking an identity. Risking an expulsion. Dragging my friends into this mess. Your brother Derek.
There were so many reasons why I was upset, why I was sad, angry, and hurt.
But I couldn’t possibly tell Drake.
“Erin please, talk to me.”
“You go first,” I whispered as I ignored the annoying buzz of my vibrating phone.
“What?”
I stared at him squarely in the eye and blurted out the disturbing question that had plagued my mind the entire night ever since I rode on the Ferris Wheel with Derek.
“Why do you hate Derek so much?”
Drake looked taken aback as he dropped the crab breaker and clumsily picked it back up. He blinked twice before opening his mouth.
“What?”
My mouth was dry and I licked my cracked lips as I continued, “Why do you hate Derek so much?”
“We get along,” he mumbled quickly, “Most of the time.”
I shook my head, “Drake, why?”
Drake fumbled with the crab breaker as he tried to avoid all eye contact with me, “Where on earth did you get that from?”
“Aaron might’ve told me a little about it,” I mumbled softly.
Drake looked flabbergasted as I squirmed in my seat, my phone still buzzing.
“And Riley,” I quickly threw in.
“Dammit Burkley,” he muttered, “Aaron told you about his first day at West Montgomery I’m guessing?”
I slowly nodded.
Stop avoiding the question.
“Look,” he sighed, “If I knew he was your cousin, I probably wouldn’t have thrown a punch-”
“So if we weren’t related, you’d still hit him right,” I probed for clarification.
“Well-”
YOU ARE READING
Act like a LADY, Think like a BOSS
Teen FictionImagine lying to your entire school. Imagine being someone you're not. Imagine risking it all for someone you love. Erin Burkley loses her beloved older brother, Trevor, to terminal leukemia in late August. Prior to his death, Trevor, and his best f...
