by Jenny Han
I’m at the other end of the banquet table, between Alex and Ash. Alex and I are accidentally matching—I’m in a pale pink silk dress, and he’s in a pink tie. When we saw each other, we laughed.
The girls on the junior squad present us senior girls with roses, per tradition. Coach Christy presents a plaque for Rennie, and all the girls on the squad cry. I do too.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Ash whispers to me, “I can’t believe everything’s about to be over.”
I whisper back, “Me either.”
“I just wish—”
I give her hand a squeeze across the table. “I know.” She doesn’t have to say, because I’m wishing the same thing. That Rennie was here.
Some of the football players get up and make speeches, and everybody cheers. When they call out Reeve as MVP, he doesn’t get up, and my stomach twists in a knot. He acts like he doesn’t even hear. Derek has to pull him up and push him onstage. Oh, Reeve. I’m terrified that he’s going to trip and fall up the steps, but he doesn’t. He accepts the trophy, and as he walks away, he mutters, “This is bullshit,” which the mike picks up. Thank God his parents aren’t here. I bet he didn’t even tell them.
After the awards and speeches, everyone gets into the buffet line. As is the tradition, the PTA moms made lasagnas. Alex offers to get our lasagnas, but I tell him I’m not hungry. I go to the drink table to get our drinks. I’m pouring two lemonades when I feel a tap on the shoulder. I turn and look, and it’s Reeve.
“What up, girl.” His voice slurs on the word “girl.” “Aw, you and Lindy look so cute together tonight.” He waves a hand at my dress. “Did you guys color-coordinate so everyone would know you’re a couple?”
“We’re not a couple.” It comes out quick and defensive, but I can barely look him in the eyes. Not because it isn’t true. It just hurts too much.
“Yeah, right.” He snatches one of my lemonades and takes a swig.
“Sorry, there’s no alcohol in there,” I say.
He waggles his eyebrows at me. “You’re feisty tonight. That’s okay. I like you feisty.”
Taking a shaky breath, I say, “You’re being really belligerent. If you’re going to act like this, you shouldn’t be here. You could get expelled!” I pour myself another lemonade and turn to make sure my parents aren’t seeing this. Thankfully they are deep in conversation with Ash’s mom.
Reeve reaches out and stops me. “So I’m a piece of shit and Lind is your knight in shining armor. That’s already been established. And you know what, you can go off to Boston with the kid, you can wear his fucking varsity jacket, you can even marry him and have perfect mixed babies. But you’re never gonna love him.” His eyes bore into mine. “Not like you do me.”
My body goes hot and then cold, and then back to hot. I open my mouth, but I don’t have any words.
And then Alex appears at my side, flanked by Derek and PJ. To the guys Alex says, “Get him out of here before the teachers see him.”
“You afraid that if you leave Cho alone with me for one second, she’ll come running back to me?” Reeve throws his head back and laughs uproariously. “Alex, man, you gotta get some balls.”
“Let’s bounce,” Derek says, trying to push Reeve toward the door. “The lasagna sucks.”
“Get off me,” Reeve says, shrugging Derek away. People are starting to look. Teachers. Parents.
Desperately I look at PJ and Derek and say, “Please, get him out of here, you guys.”
PJ throws his arm around Reeve and says, “Come on, man. Let’s go outside for a second.”
They’re forcing him out the door when Reeve twists around and calls out, “You know I’m right, Cho.”
I go sit back down at the table, and I don’t look up when he calls my name again. People are looking at us, whispering, which I ignore. Alex sits down next to me, and I start cutting into my lasagna, but my hands are shaking so badly, I can’t cut through. I knew Reeve was going to be upset about the breakup, but this is so much worse than I ever could’ve imagined.
“Lil.”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?”
“Sure.” I want to run outside and go to Reeve, but I can’t. Mary could be here; she could be watching. I have to play my part.
“Yeah, I’m worried about him too.” Alex sighs heavily. “He’s had a shitty year, that’s for damn sure.”
“I know.” Because of me.
I don’t say the words out loud, but the guilt on my face must give me away, because Alex says, “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. This is a long time coming. Reeve’s got demons, Lil. You can’t do anything for him. He’s gotta face them himself.”
Chapter Fifty-One
KAT
I COME DOWNSTAIRS AND WHIP Pat with my hoodie. He’s on the couch in his boxers, eyes closed, sleeping while Dad watches some fishing show on the TV from his La-Z-Boy. “Where’s my charger, scrub? My phone’s dead.”
Pat rolls over and groans. “Kitchen table. Nobody’s calling you anyway.”
I trade my dead phone for Pat’s on the kitchen countertop. As I do, I spot an envelope from Oberlin tucked inside one of Pat’s racing magazines. As soon as I see it, my heart explodes. I run back into the living room, screaming, “How long has this been here?” It isn’t a huge envelope, but it’s not a small one either.
Pat shoots straight up. The left side of his mouth glistens with drool. “What? Kat, what?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that I got a letter from Oberlin!” It’s postmarked March 31, but it’s practically the middle of April.
Pat rubs his eyes, hard. “What? I told you about that.”
“No, you didn’t!” I scream.
Dad clicks up the volume. “Kat, relax. It’s probably some dorm information.”
Whoops. I forgot all about the fact that I never told Pat or my dad that I haven’t actually been accepted into Oberlin yet. “Never mind,” I say, and I go back to the kitchen and sit down at the table with the envelope.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to black everything out as I slide my finger along the envelope seal. But I don’t see blackness. I see my mother.
Dear Katherine,
Oberlin is delighted to welcome you . . .
I’m in. I’m fucking in.
I walk back to the den to apologize to Pat. I was a bitch. But he’s back asleep, and Dad’s nodding off himself.
This is how it’ll be next year. The two of them here, without me.
I start to cry. I’ve spent years dreaming about getting off this island, but I don’t know if I really understood what it will take to do it. What am I going to do without these guys?
* * *
I’m out walking Shep through the piney forest when I hear what sounds like loud music. I follow it and find Reeve’s truck parked in a clearing. There’s no road leading to this spot, just a dirt bike trail. He’s shaking his head back and forth, windows rolled up, the music of his radio blasting. He tips a bottle to his lips.
Poor dude. Day drinking is not a good sign. Day drinking by yourself in the woods is a very, very bad sign.
I approach slowly. I don’t want to give the kid a heart attack. I cut a diagonal through the woods so he can see me through his windshield.
And that’s when I see Mary, sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Her head is turned, and she’s watching him like she’s a hungry lion and he’s a bloody piece of meat.
What the hell?
Shep starts going absolutely nutso. The dog’s so old, he barely has the energy to wag his tail, but suddenly he’s yanking me forward so hard I have to use both hands to hold on to his leash. I let him pull me toward the truck. Over his barks I call Mary’s name.
Reeve keeps his eyes closed. I don’t think he can hear me over the blaring music. But Mary hears me. She suddenly turns her head and meets my eyes. I’m up to the truck now, my hand on the door handle. And just as I pull it open, she disappears.
I swear to God, she just fucki
ng disappears!
Shep lets out one more bark. And then he quiets down and sits next to my feet.
Reeve’s eyes fly open, startled. He quickly shuts off his radio.
“Jeez, Kat!”
I stare at him. Did he not just see Mary sitting freaking next to him? “What? What the hell is going on?” I look all around me, over my shoulders.
“Nothing. I’m just trying to be alone.”
Alone?
But Mary . . .
Maybe I’m dreaming? I’ve had so many weird dreams about her lately.
Reeve cracks open a new beer, tips it to his lips, and chugs it down in about four gulps.
“Reeve.” Damn. What the hell is going on here? Shep is amped up, sniffing around and growling. I let Shep up into the truck, climb in, and lock the door. “I . . . need to talk to you.”
Reeve gives me a sour look. “Dude, I just want to drink. I don’t want to talk.”
“You’ve got to stop this. I mean, come on. You’re destroying yourself!”
I figure he’ll call me out for being dramatic, but instead he says, “There’s nothing left to destroy. It’s over.” Reeve throws his empty bottle into the woods, and it shatters off a tree. He pops open another beer, turns to me, and says bitterly, “All thanks to Alex. He’s obsessed with her. That’s why he ratted me out.”
Reeve lifts the bottle to his lips, but this time I grab his arm and stop him. “For cheating on Lillia?”
Reeve stares at me. “What? I never cheated on Lillia. Are you crazy? He’s the one who told everyone about what happened in seventh grade.” He looks up at me, waiting for me to say something. “I know you’ve heard about how I bullied that girl until she freaking killed herself, so don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
I can hear my heart pounding. “Who cares what those dummies say? Rennie made up lies about me for freaking years, remember? Yeah, it was shitty what you did, but it’s not like the girl died. It was a suicide attempt.”
“She did die.”
“No, she didn’t.”
Reeve punches the steering wheel. “I don’t know why you’re arguing with me about this, Kat! I’m telling you she died, okay! She freaking died because I was an asshole! I can’t blame everyone at school for thinking I’m a big piece of shit, because I clearly am.”
I can barely breathe.
“What was this girl’s name?”
“Elizabeth Zane.” He chokes on the words. “I used to call her Big Easy.” He looks at me and blinks a few times as his eyes fill with tears. “Get it? Big E-Z. Aren’t I so fucking clever?”
Holy shit. There’s no way. No fucking way. “What did she look like?”
“Blond hair. Heavy.”
That sounds like Mary, back before she lost the weight. And she did say Reeve used to call her Big Easy.
“Are you sure she’s dead?” I whisper. “I mean, are you one hundred percent positive?”
Reeve looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have. Mary is . . . dead?
No. I mean, that’s impossible.
But then I think about the occult books I took from Mary’s house. A bunch of them were dog-eared on the pages that talked about communicating with spirits, spirits who think they are still alive.
I can’t see; I can’t hear; I can’t breathe. I feel for the door handle and tumble out of the truck.
“Wait, where are you going?” Reeve asks.
“I—I—I need a ride. And you’re too drunk to drive me.” I walk around to Reeve’s side and pull him out of the driver’s seat.
“What? Come on, dude.”
He’s got a few more beers left in the truck. I dump them all out and say, “Just shut up and pass out.”
There’s only one person who can tell me, for sure, what the hell is going on with Mary. I take out my phone and look up directions to Greenbriar Sanitarium.
Chapter Fifty-Two
LILLIA
“DO YOU THINK WE MADE the right call with this font?” I ask. I’m at Alex’s, mounting on an easel the picture of Rennie we had blown up. I picked up the picture of Rennie from the copy shop and brought it right over so we could see how it looked. It’s her senior photo, and at the top it reads Rennie Holtz, Prom Queen In Memoriam in a scripty Edwardian font. “Should we have gone super clean, like, minimalist?”
Alex looks up from untangling twinkle lights. His mom had a bunch left over from his uncle Tim’s wedding, and the guys on prom committee are going to string them up all over the backyard tomorrow morning. “Nah. Rennie’s always liked bling. The fancy font was the right choice.”
“I hope so,” I say. Prom queen was Rennie’s dream. I want it to be just right. After all, homecoming should have been hers.
“Don’t worry, it looks great,” Alex tells me. “It’s exactly what she would have wanted.” Like always, his words have a way of setting me at ease. Which is a feat these days. I hate being at school, seeing Reeve fall apart. I have such crazy anxiety that he’s going to say or do something he won’t be able to take back. Make some kind of scene, like he did at the sports banquet.
Lately it’s been good between us. Almost like old times. I know I don’t have to say anything, but I blurt out, “This year’s been crazy, but the one thing I’m grateful for is that you and I can be friends again. I really missed you, Lindy.” Alex looks taken aback. Before he can say anything, I say, “Wait. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you. I took your friendship for granted, and I led you on because I liked the way you made me feel. You made me feel—so special . . . and I didn’t want that to end. But it was wrong. And I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to answer.
“It means a lot that you’d say that.”
“I mean it.”
“So, then, apology accepted.”
I stare at him. “Just like that?”
“Yeah. We’re cool, Lil. I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. That counts for something. It does to me, anyway.”
“To me, too.” I lean over and give him the biggest hug I can. Then Alex goes back to the twinkle lights and I say suddenly, “Hey, what do you think about us going to prom together? I don’t have a date, and you don’t have a date, and you know our moms are going to be all about us getting pictures together either way. You don’t even have to buy me a corsage!” Alex takes so long to answer that I add, “As friends, of course.”
At last Alex says, “As friends. Sure. But don’t worry, I’ll still get you a corsage.”
I beam. I feel lighter already. “Then I’ll get you a boutonniere.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
KAT
ABOUT AN HOUR LATER I pull up through the wrought-iron gates. The place is a huge brick mansion from another time, with beautifully manicured gardens. It could be a spa, if not for the bars on the windows.
Reeve passed out cold before we even pulled onto the ferry, and he’s been snoring ever since with Shep in his lap. I park in one of the visitor spots and walk quickly up through the front door.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m here to see my aunt. Her name is Bette Zane.”
“You mean Elizabeth Zane?”
“Um, yes. Sorry.”
I sign in as Mary Zane, and then I’m pointed down a long hallway. It takes all my self-control not to run down there as fast as I can.
As beautiful and tony as this place looked from the outside, the inside looks exactly like a hospital. White walls, beeping machines, sterile.
The hallway ends at a large room with a glass ceiling. It could have been a greenhouse or something back in the day, and it’s filled with sunlight. It’s now a rec room, and patients here are quietly going about their business—a few are watching a television in the corner, one is working on a puzzle, three are playing cards. One lady is just staring off into space like she’s catatonic, but then she catches me looking at her, and she glares.
I see two nurses who
are manning a pill cart look at me with suspicion and share a whisper. Probably thinking if I’m here to see someone, why am I just staring around, casing the joint? Shit.
And then, to my right, I see a woman painting at an easel.
A painting of a lighthouse.
It looks exactly like the ones in Mary’s house. Except it’s blurry. Unfocused.
I race over to her side. “Um, excuse me. Elizabeth?” She doesn’t even blink. I lay a hand on her arm. “Bette?”
She turns and looks at me, confused. Not in the Oh! Why, I wasn’t expecting company! way. In the I’m hopped up on so many drugs, I can’t see straight way. Who even knows if she’ll be able to tell me what I need to know.
Her hair is almost entirely gray, and the ends zap out, fried and dead, like she hasn’t gotten a haircut in a long time. Years, I bet. She’s thin, almost sickly-looking. She’s got on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that are two sizes too big. She’s got the same pale complexion as Mary, and the same little nose.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but can I ask you a couple of questions?” That’s all I say because I don’t know whether I should call her Mary or Elizabeth or Big Easy.
She turns back to the canvas and smacks the brush against it.
“I’m hoping you can tell me what happened to your niece.”
A shock of panic bolts through her. Her paintbrush tumbles handle over tip, until it hits the floor with a splat of red. Aunt Bette grabs me and tries desperately to make her eyes focus on mine. “Why? What happened to Mary? Did she hurt someone?”
I shrink back and try to wriggle my arm out of her grip, but she won’t let go. “No. I don’t know.” Panicked, I start looking around for help. What the hell was I thinking coming to a damn mental asylum? They don’t lock people up for nothing!
“She’s here because of that boy. She won’t let him go. She won’t ever let him go.” The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Reeve. “But you’ve seen her too?”
“Yes . . . I . . . We’re friends.”
The next thing I know, Aunt Bette is dragging me out of the room, her bony fingers digging into my skin. “You have to tell them! My sister, she made them think I was crazy! She didn’t believe me that Mary was back from the dead!” She’s making such a ruckus that everyone’s turning to stare.
