Meg at Sixteen by Susan Beth Pfeffer Page B

take my money or my purity, what do I have to give you?” she asked.
    â€œYour love,” he said. “Your trust. Although you may withdraw that as well.”
    â€œI trust you,” Meg said, and she was surprised by the voice she said it with. It wasn’t her usual scared-little-girl voice. There was a woman’s trust behind those words, a woman’s strength as well.
    â€œHow much truth can you take?” Nick asked her. “Don’t lie to me, Daisy. There’s a lot, and it’s ugly, and I’ll tell you only as much as you want to know.”
    â€œI want to know everything,” Meg replied, and again, it wasn’t a schoolgirl speaking. “I love you, Nicky, and you’re a part of me. There’s nothing you can tell me I can’t understand.”
    Nick shook his head. “I want to believe you,” he said.
    â€œIf I can trust you, you can trust me,” Meg declared. She squeezed his hand with hers and hoped that some of her faith in him came through.
    â€œYou have to forget everything I said to your aunt,” Nick declared. “All those pretty lies.”
    â€œYou didn’t lie about your feelings,” Meg said. “What else matters?”
    â€œA lot else,” Nick replied. “Especially to your aunt. Let’s see. Out of all that romantic gobbledygook, the only truth was that my mother’s dead. Oh, and that my stepfather and I don’t get along. But you already knew that.”
    â€œThere must have been some truth,” Meg said. “You couldn’t have made it all up.”
    â€œI did, pretty much,” Nick said. “It’s the story I tell everybody at Princeton. No one there ever bothered to check it out, but your aunt will, and she’ll find out a lot of ugly things about me, and she’ll make a big point of telling you. I want you to hear it from me first. Maybe it’ll hurt you less that way.”
    â€œI love you, Nicholas George Sebastian,” Meg said. “Now tell me all your ugly truths.”
    Nick laughed, and it was that harsh, humorless laugh that Meg dreaded. “For starters, that wasn’t the name I was born with,” he declared. “I had it changed legally before I started Princeton.”
    â€œWhat was your name then?” Meg asked. She marveled that none of this concerned her. The only thing she wanted was to alleviate Nick’s pain.
    â€œGeorge Nicholas Keefer,” Nick said. “Nobody ever called me George, though. I was always Nick.”
    â€œWhy did you change it?” Meg asked. “Not that you look like a George Keefer.”
    â€œTell me you love me,” Nick said. “I need to hear it again.”
    â€œI love you, Nicky,” Meg said. “No matter what your name is. No matter who you really are. I love you.”
    â€œI changed my name because I hated George Keefer,” Nick said. “I hated who he was, what he’d been through. I figured a new name, a new life, new chances. I was right about that too. Nick Sebastian gets treated differently than George Keefer.”
    â€œIs that all?” Meg asked. “Is that your full confession?”
    Nick looked out toward the ocean. It was a foggy, gray morning and visibility was poor. Meg wondered what he was staring at, why he could no longer face her.
    â€œFamily means everything to your aunt,” he said.
    â€œMy aunt’s a fool,” Meg replied. She wanted to laugh with the knowledge.
    â€œI wish she were,” Nick declared. “Things would be so much easier if she were. But family is important. Take it from someone who doesn’t have any.”
    â€œI don’t have any either,” Meg said.
    Nick shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he replied. “It’s my fault. I’m doing this badly. It’s just I’m going to tell you things I’ve never told anybody before, and it frightens me. But you have to