Page 49 of Rastor


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Just great. More drama. When I spoke, my voice came out too fast and too sharp. "What?"

"I'm sorry." She blinked back tears. "About everything. Really. This is all my fault."

"No." My voice softened as I realized that this time, it wasn't jealousy that had her upset. "It's not."

"But it is," she insisted. "If I hadn't become friends with Brittney–"

"That's not it." I paused, thinking of the bigger issue. "But there's something you need to hear."

"What?"

"It's not just who youbecomefriends with, it's what happens after." I thought of my old friends. Some of them, I still had. But a lot more of them, I'd kicked to the curb after I'd gotten famous. And it wasn't becauseIhad changed.

Well, okay, Ihadchanged. But the bigger thing was howtheyhad changed afterward. Guys I used to know suddenly became ass-kissers, or worse, users, who tried to cash in on my fame to make themselves rich and famous, too.

Even that sex tape, it wouldn't have happened if I'd surrounded myself with better people.

Amber blinked up at me. "What do you mean?"

"Youknewhow Brittney was," I said. "But you never called her on it. Whatever she wanted, you just went along, no matter how rotten it was." I shook my head. "If you do that too much, bad things happen."

And this, I knew from experience.

"But we're not even friends anymore," Amber said. "In your driveway, you saw us, right?"

"I'm talking before then." Feeling like some sort of amateur shrink, I went on to say, "You're a nice person, Amber. Maybe you should hang out with nicer people. That's all I'm saying."

"Oh." Her face brightened. "You mean like Chloe?"

I froze. "Uh…"

"Shedoesseem nice." Amber was nodding now. "And she's a pretty good waitress, too. Like tonight, she remembered the extra syrup and everything."

I stared at her. "What?"

"You know, when I apologized, I asked her to bring extra syrup for my pancakes, and she was really nice about it, too."

What the hell? "You made herwaiton you?"

"Well, yeah." Amber frowned. "That wasn't a bad thing, was it? I mean, I left her a really nice tip. And she totally earned it, too."

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the image of Amber sitting there at some table while Chloe waited on her – and the way it sounded, was sent to the kitchen for extra condiments.

Amber's voice broke into my thoughts. "Lawton? Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes. "You shouldn't have done that."

"But why not? I knew it was really super-important to you, and I didn't want to waittoolong." Her gaze drifted to my crossed arms. "Especially now, with you all suicidal and stuff."

Through gritted teeth, I said, "I'm not suicidal."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Because one of my sorority sisters, she works for a suicide hotline, you know, like a volunteer." Amber squinted up at me. "Do you want the number, just in case?"

My head was pounding now. "No."

"But I want to dosomethingto help." She perked up. "I know. I could run to the store for bandages. Or maybe some ointment or something."

"No."