Randy and Beth already left for work, so I don’t have to worry about them going into werewolf mode and ripping Ben to pieces. I want to tell him about last night’s conversation between Beth and me. I want to tell him we can end this, together. But I don’t. Instead, we don’t say much. I find his presence comforting. I’ve gone through too much lately to have him jibber-jabber and ask me about my problems. When we’re almost at school, I ask, “So, where’s this festival at?” I haven’t really thought about it since yesterday. “Oh, um,” Ben stammers, “you’ll see.” I grit my teeth. “There’s not a festival, is there?” I don’t even glance toward him. My eyes pierce the road. I should’ve seen right through him the first time he mentioned a stupid festival. Who goes to a festival anyway? His head teeters back and forth. “Like I said—you’ll see.” “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” I say, shaking my head. “Why would you invite me to a festival when you know damn well there’s not one?”
