The Last Time We Were Us Read Online Free PDF

though we both know who I mean.
    “His face will never be the same.”
    Jason’s laugh is mirthless. “Yeah, I think I know that.”
    “So . . .”
    “So what?” he snaps. “You came to rub it in? To get some juicy details to take back to Innis ?” He says his name like it’s cough syrup, like the taste of it makes him gag.
    “How do you even—?”
    “I saw him waiting in the car yesterday,” he says. “I’m not stupid.”
    I shake my head. “Can we please leave Innis out of this?”
    “It’s a little hard to leave Innis out, when it comes to this.” He spits out the words. “ And he’s not good enough for you.”
    My face is on fire, and I have to stop myself from reaching my hand across the space between us and slapping him.
    “You don’t know him.”
    “I’m the one who was friends with him, remember?”
    “I remember you’re the one who ruined his brother’s life.” It comes out a yell, and Jason’s hand reaches for the door. His mouth opens and hangs there, and then he shuts it tight.
    He is not the boy I once knew. He never will be again.
    “Then please,” he says, “don’t let me ruin yours.”
    And without another word, he’s out of my car and out of my life.

Chapter 4
    I T ’ S AFTER EIGHT THIRTY BY THE TIME I DRAG MYSELF out of bed the next morning. Downstairs, Dad’s breakfast dishes are in the sink, and Mom is furiously wiping down all of the cabinets.
    “When do you get done today?” she asks. I babysit for the Ellisons Monday through Thursday, while Mrs. Ellison either plans charity events, goes to breakfast with other moms, or attends Pilates.
    “One,” I say. “I’ll come straight there.” I have an emergency wedding planning lunch with Mom and Lyla. Apparently the band Lyla had chosen had fallen through, and at this stage in the game, that’s a really big deal . I’m a required attendee.
    “Good,” Mom says, moving on to the next cabinet.
    “Isn’t it a little early for Pledge?” I ask.
    She doesn’t answer, and at first I think it’s because of the band fiasco, but then I see the Bonneville Post-Gazette , opened to page four.
Local Teen Assault Convict Released Early
    He’s been out for at least a few days, but I suppose the Post-Gazette isn’t exactly the Associated Press. Even though it’s not news to me, the words feel final, authoritative. Below them sits a photo of Jason, lips shut tight and angry, against a chart that marks his height: seventy-two inches.
    Mom’s hand stops wiping and follows my gaze. I turn my head guiltily, but she already knows that I know.
    “He’s not my friend anymore.”
    “I know.”
    “So don’t worry.”
    “I’m a mom,” she says. “It’s my job to worry.”
    And she goes back to cleaning, her dustrag moving just the tiniest bit faster.
    M RS. E LLISON IS flustered when I get to the house, Sadie on her hip and Mary Ryan tugging at her cardigan. She steals a glance in the hall mirror, primping her elegantly cut hair with her free hand. I wonder if she read about Jason, too.
    What would she do if she knew the just-released convict was her go-to babysitter’s former best friend? Or that the dangerous boy was sitting in said babysitter’s car not even twenty-four hours ago?
    “There’s a pizza in the freezer and apples in the crisper.” She transfers Sadie from her arms to mine. “Give them lunch at eleven thirty or so. I should be home by one.”
    “Going somewhere special?” I ask, trying to act normal. “You look lovely.”
    She shakes her head, a you-shouldn’t-have smile plastered so wide I know she’s not aware of my past associations. “Breakfast with a friend, and then running some errands, but you are just too sweet, Liz.” Then she plants a pale pink kiss on both Sadie and Mary Ryan. “Be good for Miss Liz.”
    The girls and I run through the usual morning activities—story time, dress-up, arts and crafts. I’m fooling with a tiara and adjusting Mary Ryan’s favorite princess dress when