My Fault (Culpable Book 1)

I knew I’d been an idiot for not taking better care of myself. Things had piled up, and I’d let them get out of control. Nick, the letter, the fall, everything had gotten the better of me. Being with Nicholas had brought problems and suffering, more suffering that I knew, and I realized that I needed to let it all go. Not doing so was bad for me, and it was bad for him, too. It was painful to admit I wouldn’t be able to hold on to him, but I realized it was right, even necessary, if I wanted to build a new life here, find a place for myself in this city, and put back together the shattered fragments of my heart.

So I got out of bed ready to leave all the bad things behind. I was supposed to go shopping with Jenna that afternoon. There was only one day left before class started, and even though I was nervous and scared, I was happy to leave the summer behind, start over, do better, get the old me back.

Thank God, Jenna was the type who sucked you in when you were with her, so I got distracted between her and the thoughts of what my first day at St. Marie’s would be like. Jenna said it was an elitist school, and even if there were lots of different kinds of people there, they all had one thing in common: they were loaded. I didn’t know how I’d fit in there, but before I could even blink, it was seven in the morning, the alarm was going off, and it was time for my first day of class.

My uniform, now properly tailored, was waiting for me on the chair by my desk, and when I emerged from the bathroom, I started dressing, unable to avoid feeling weird. The skirt was now about five inches above my knee, and the shirt fit snugly in all the right places. I put on my black shoes and looked at myself in the mirror. My lord, why did it have to be green—moss-green at that? Even worse, I had no idea how to tie a tie. Leaving it off for now, I grabbed my bag and walked out with the typical apprehension of the first day of school: typical for a six-year-old anyway, if not for a seventeen-year-old.

Mom was in the kitchen, dressed but looking sleepy, with a cup of coffee in her hand. Nicholas was sitting in front of her at the island. I’d hardly seen him since I’d come back from the hospital. One time he’d checked in on me, and even then, I’d pretended to be asleep. That was three days without talking. My mother said he hadn’t even slept at home. I couldn’t help but pause in the doorway to look at him briefly. His hair was disheveled, and he looked good in his jeans and his loose black shirt. I had to remind myself of everything that had happened.

“I have no idea how to put this stupid thing on. I need help,” I said.

“Oh, Noah, you’re so cute,” my mom said, laughing. I frowned at her.

“Don’t laugh. I look like an elf.” I took a seat across from Nicholas, who was sitting there reading the paper with a slight, almost imperceptible smile on his face.

“I’ll make your breakfast, and you can ask Nick to help you with the tie.” I looked up, uncomfortable, as Nick laid down his paper and raised his eyebrows.

My mother put on music, so I alone could hear my pounding heartbeat. I didn’t want Nick to touch me, but I didn’t know how to tie that damned thing, and I didn’t want to spend half an hour on YouTube watching tutorials about it. I stood up and walked over, eyes looking elsewhere.

Without getting up, he grabbed my waist and pulled me between his legs.

“Your uniform looks good,” he said, trying to catch my eye.

“It’s ridiculous, and I don’t want you to talk to me,” I hissed as his long fingers grazed my neck, trying to lift up the collar of my white shirt.

My mother, cooking and humming, had no idea what was happening ten feet away.

“I won’t stop talking to you, and I will get you to change your mind about me,” he said, bring his face closer to mine than was appropriate. “I want you for myself, Noah, and I won’t stop until I have you.”

What the hell? Had he lost his mind? This was Nicholas Leister—Mr. I Don’t Belong to Anybody.

His fingers touched my neck, this time on purpose. It was so sensual, I had to close my eyes to concentrate on what I was really thinking, what I really wanted. And what I wanted was not to be hurt again by Nicholas—or any other guy, for that matter.

“You done?” I asked. He stopped and observed me. Then he quickly adjusted the knot and gave it an expert look.

“Yeah. Good luck on your first day.” He got up and unexpectedly gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I almost wanted to shout for him to hug me, hold me, take me to that stupid school in his car, kiss me until I passed out. But instead I stood there waiting to hear him go out the front door.

“Noah,” my mother said from the other end of the kitchen. I’d gotten lost in thought and hadn’t been listening to her. I turned as she set a cup of coffee in front of me along with a letter with no return address.

“This arrived this morning,” she told me, drinking the last sip of her coffee. “It must be from someone around here. It doesn’t even have a stamp on it or a return address. Do you have any idea who it could be from?”

I shook my head, took it with trembling hands, and opened it. My mother returned to her newspaper. I was glad she did because it meant she didn’t notice how I turned completely white just then.

The handwriting was the same as the other day:

I’m watching you. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have ever come. PS. Good luck at your new school.

P.A.

I dropped it on the table in terror. This was really getting frightening. Who could be cruel enough to threaten me like that? Whoever it was had to know me pretty well because they knew I was starting school that day. Ronnie was the only person I could think of, and if that was true, then I only had one person to turn to, as much as I hated it.

I put the letter in my sweater pocket and stood up.

“Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast?” my mother asked.

“I’m too nervous. I’ll have something later,” I said, running up to my room. I grabbed the letter from before that I’d hidden in my nightstand and placed it next to this one. I was right—the handwriting was the same, the length was almost the same, too, there was just one difference: the signature. P.A. Did that mean more than one person was writing me? How could I already have enemies here? I hid the letters in a drawer and tried not to think about them. I didn’t want to be worried about something like this on my first day. If more came, I decided I’d say something to Nicholas. I didn’t want to, but I knew he’d help.

I went downstairs again, and Mom and I got into her car and headed for school. She’d insisted on taking me. Now I regretted it. I’d have rather gone in my own car. Driving would have taken my mind off everything.

The front door of the main building was packed with students dressed in green. Some were sitting on the benches outside, others filing in. A few outside were finishing their last cigarette or just dragging the minutes on until the routine of school began. I remembered it had been the same at my school. People were already gathered into cliques and seemed happy to see their friends again after summer.

“Have a good day, honey,” my mother said. I could tell she was stirred up.

“What the hell, Mom?” I asked, laughing.

She tried to act normal but failed dramatically.

“Hush. I’m just happy you get to go here, that’s all.” She wiped away a tear.

I shook my head and kissed her on the cheek.

“You’re nuts, but I love you,” I said, chuckling as I got out of the car.

She waved goodbye and left. As I walked toward the door, crossing the lawn and passing all the students still on the benches, someone appeared beside me, startling me.

“Oh my God, you look terrible!” Jenna said, shoving me. Seeing her in that uniform, glamorous as she normally was, cracked me up. Still, she was hot even in that god-awful green sweater and tie. Her legs were uncovered, her socks cute, her skirt very short. Mine wasn’t long, either, but it was modest compared to hers and the other girls’.

“Shut up!” I said.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends,” she said, dragging me off to one of the benches. There were two girls and three guys there, among them Sophie and Sam, whom I’d met at the party.

“What’s up, Noah?” Sam said. I remembered having to kiss him during that stupid game of Truth or Dare. He was blond and had attractive brown eyes, but at the same time, he had a mirthful air that made him look like a little boy to me. He stared me up and down. “You look good in that uniform.”

I rolled my eyes. No one but Jenna looked good in this horrible get-up, thought the boys were sexy in their button-down shirts and black slacks. Sophie, the girl who’d been eyeing Nick at the party, stared at me, and I wondered what was passing through her mind. Next to her, a brown-haired girl with bright eyes glared at me. I almost felt like I recognized her.

“Noah, this is Sam, who you already know,” Jenna said. I ignored her sarcastic tone. “This is Sophie, and this is Cassie, Anna’s sister. I mentioned her that time at dinner.” Now I realized why she looked familiar. She didn’t seem to like me any more than her older sister did. I tried to avoid her stare, turning to the other two guys. One was brown-haired with glasses and very handsome, and the other was the usual blond-haired quarterback type. “This is Jackson and Mark.”

“Hi,” I said, smiling.

“So you’re Nicholas Leister’s new stepsister?” Jackson, the guy with the glasses, asked.

“The one and only,” I said.

“You can’t imagine how I envy you,” Sophie said. She was evidently hung up on Nick, and I chastised myself for wanting to tell her he’d never be hers.

As Jenna and the guys finished their cigarettes, the bell rang.

“Torture time,” Mark said, stubbing out his and throwing his backpack smoothly over his shoulder. “See you inside, Noah,” he said with a smile.

As everyone else walked in, I went to the secretary’s office to find out my class schedule and get the papers I needed. That was in another building, and as I made my way over, I looked all around. I couldn’t help but feel someone was watching me, and I had a strange feeling in my chest as I went inside.

The day sped by without incident. Jenna was popular and introduced me to tons of people as the hours passed. I wound up having her in almost all my classes except math and Spanish. Mark, the hot guy, and Sophie were in those two. Cassie was in most of my classes, too, and I realized she couldn’t stand me over the course of the day. She tried to make me look stupid whenever she got the chance. She had a lot of friends; apparently her sister had been a legend in this school for millionaires, just like Nick. Everyone asked me about him, what he was doing, what it was like living with him, and so on. Some of them had been there for the race and had seen the fight I’d caused, and they felt that was reason enough to look down on me. Damn you, Nicholas Leister, was there anywhere you wouldn’t screw my life up? Everyone was also talking about the party that Friday to celebrate the start of school and welcome the new kids. I didn’t know what it would be like, really, but whenever it came up, everyone gave me weird looks.

When it was time to go home, my mother was outside waiting. She asked me about everyone and everything, but I was exhausted, and I didn’t say much on the way home. All I could do was rest, and I was happy I didn’t have to work that night at the bar. I lay down when I got home, but soon a familiar voice nearly made me jump out of bed.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” it said. It had to be Jenna.

“What do you want?” I asked, opening my eyes from a deep sleep.

“Jackson and Mark have invited us over. Almost all the seniors will be there… You’ve got to come.” Her smile was radiant.

“Jenna, it’s a Monday. There’s school tomorrow,” I protested, knowing there was no point.

“So? The parties at the beginning of the year are always the best… Seriously, Noah, do you know how hard it’s going to be to make you popular?”

I shook my head, sitting up.

“You’re like a Martian sometimes,” she complained. “Come on, take a shower and I’ll choose your outfit.”

She pulled me out of bed. As I took my hot shower, I tried to ignore her as best I could.

“What are you doing in there?” she shouted from the other side of the door.

I came out wrapped in a towel with my hair dripping. Jenna could be a pain when she felt like it. As I dried my hair sitting at my dressing table, I opened a drawer to take out my makeup and saw those envelopes again. Those dumb letters were ruining everything for me; I couldn’t get them out of my head. I wanted to tell someone about them, but I worried that would only make things worse. I was mad at Nick, but I didn’t want him getting into another fight, especially over me, and I knew that was exactly what would happen if I told him about the letters. I slammed the drawer shut and told myself again it was just a sick joke. Ronnie wasn’t stupid enough to threaten me in a letter, and there were thousands of girls who hated me for the simple reason that I was Nick’s new stepsister.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I told myself I did need a distraction, that there was no point staying there and ruminating on a problem it was best to forget. I put on my makeup, and Jenna left to do the same at her place. I focused on what I saw in the mirror. I didn’t want to leave a second free for my worries. Once my makeup was on, I spent another half hour fooling with my hair and then tried on almost all the dresses Mom had bought me, most of them still on hangers with the price tags attached. I finally chose a swing skirt and a tight black top.

Just when I was about to call Jenna to ask what time she was picking me up, I heard screaming outside my door. Still barefoot, high heels in my hand, I looked out to see what was going on.

The shouts came from my mother and William’s room. I walked out into the hall to hear better. They were arguing.

“What did you want me to do?” my mother shouted. She never shouted unless she was furious. I asked myself what William must have done to put her in such a mood.

“You should have told me!” William roared, even angrier than she. “You’re my wife, for the love of God! After all this time…how could you hide a thing like that from me?”

There were many things my mother might have hidden, but only one that would drive a person crazy that way.

“I couldn’t!” she replied.

As I was listening in, someone squeezed my hips, and I jumped in the air and dropped my shoes. Turning around scared, I screamed:

“What are you doing?”

Nick looked at me with curiosity.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he replied, not subtle as he looked at my clothing. I couldn’t help checking out his torso, either, in that white shirt that fit him so snugly… What a contrast it made with that jet-black hair!

“Do you know why they’re fighting?” I asked apprehensively.

He looked back and said a simple no, pressing his hands in the wall on either side of my face and imprisoning me against the wall. “So are you talking to me again?” he said, and I watched every movement of his lips.

I wanted to push him away, but I refused to touch him. If I put a single finger on his body, my resolve would shatter.

“How long are you planning on continuing like this?” he asked, frustrated.

“Until you understand I don’t want you around me.”

He grinned, but his eyes were still desperate.

“You’re dying to kiss me.”

I felt sick. I hated being this nervous, hated that what had started between us had ended up this way.

“I’m dying to kick you,” I said.

He smiled, and I crossed my arms with indignation.

“You going out?” he added.

“Yeah.”

“With Jenna?”

“No, with your dad,” I replied sarcastically. “Do I even know anyone else?”

His hand slid from the wall to the side of my face, and he looked at me differently, so intensely I could hardly stand it.

“Don’t make this harder than it is,” I told him. As much as the distance hurt me, I wanted him to keep away from me. I couldn’t forget what had happened as much as I wanted to, and I could no longer trust him.

His pain burned itself into my retinas. I didn’t know what I was doing, denying my feelings for him, but I was scared to get close, scared to open my heart again, especially to someone like him. It was better to be alone so no one could control me or tell me what to say, or make me suffer.

That night I was going to forget everything, the letter, my stalker, and Nicholas. That night I was going to get drunk and let alcohol wash away all my grief.