Aching. Searing. Ripping in two.
But I couldn’t help myself. A single, lonely tear ran down my cheek and into the long, uncut grass, where wildflowers stuck up in random, scraggly clumps.
“Does anyone even come to visit me?” I wiped my nose and tried to smooth down the earth, but couldn’t make contact. My hand didn’t even leave a mark. “Why can’t I do this? Why?”
“Here,” he said, kneeling down. He put his hand on mine. “Feel the ground. Feel the pulse of it.” He pressed down harder. “Feel the way the light hits it. Feel the way it breathes.”
I tried to do what he said. I stared at our hands, all mushed into the ground. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t feel anything.”
“Control yourself,” he said. “Remember what the book said. It’s not about controlling the thing. It’s about controlling yourself.”
But how? How can I control what I feel?
“Fake it if you have to,” he said. “Fake it ’til you make it.”
I wiped my face with the back of my free hand and took a deep, shaky breath. I focused on feeling strong. I focused on feeling aware of everything around me. Control.
I felt Patrick’s fingers lock together with mine. Our hands a muddy mix of dirt and sand and teardrops.
“I can’t get it.”
“You can.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
I focused so hard I thought I might give myself a concussion. I stared at the ground, aching, desperate to connect with my old world. I reached down deep inside of me and gave it everything I had left.
And I still couldn’t do it.
I bowed my head, hating myself.
Then, all of a sudden, something bit me.
“Ow!” I pulled my hand back. “What the hell was that?”
“Ant?” Patrick guessed.
I stared at the small mark on my thumb, already swelling up and turning red. I looked at Patrick, wide-eyed. “It bit me. It bit me and I felt it.”
He smiled. “Feels pretty good, huh? I knew you could—”
I threw my arms around him, surprising us both. “Whoa,” he whispered. He let me hug him for a minute, and then slowly began to hug me back. For half a second, our faces only inches apart, I couldn’t remember why we’d come back to Half Moon. All I could think about was the feeling of his heart beating against my chest. Warm and steady.
And as we held each other there in front of my headstone, a memory flashed through my mind. A boy and a girl, running together through an endless field of wildflowers. The sound of their laughter echoing through the crystal night sky.
All of a sudden, a chill raced through me. The memory wasn’t mine.
“We’ve got company.” Patrick’s voice jolted me back and I felt his arms loosen.
I followed his eyes, and saw a figure approaching. Her dark hair and tiny frame. Those bright brown eyes. Smoldering. I’d know those eyes anywhere.
Sadie.
“What’s she doing here?”
Patrick shook his head. “Guess you get more visitors than you thought?”
Her hands were full of sunflowers and daisies. I wished I could throw them in her face.
Give it some practice, I heard Patrick say, and who knows?
I got to my feet and faced her. Felt my cheeks flush as she came closer. “What do you want?”
She stopped about a foot from my headstone, looking through me. “Hey, Brie,” she whispered. “I know you must hate me—”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Yes, I do.”
“—but I miss you so much. And I’m so, so sorry. I hated keeping everything from you. But it wasn’t up to me. It wasn’t my news to tell—”
“Don’t you dare think you can apologize. Don’t you even—”
“She’s trying,” Patrick interrupted, his voice soft. “You should listen.”
I glared at him.
“Fine.” He shook his head. “Hold a grudge. It’s your party.”
She looked exactly the same as always. Same perfect hair. Same perfect tan. Same killer eyebrows. I hated to admit it, but she looked gorgeous. And even though she was clearly upset, I could tell the months had been good to her. I could tell she’d been happy.
Ugh. I wonder why.
I watched Sadie stare down at my headstone. Watched for any sign of emotion—guilt or grief or otherwise—and wondered how the two of them had managed to keep the whole mess a secret. Right under my nose. And probably, if I had to guess, everyone else’s noses too. Emma and Tess clearly hadn’t had a clue about any of this on the night of my bonfire. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about that; thinking how Sadie had betrayed them too. How she’d pretended to love me.
Because I’m sorry, but that is not how you treat somebody you love.
It couldn’t have been easy. There had to have been so much sneaking. So much lying. So many stolen kisses. Kisses she had stolen from me, thank you very much.
Man, she had a lot of nerve, coming here. Trying to talk to me when I couldn’t answer. When I couldn’t tell her she wasn’t even remotely welcome on my turf.
“Turf?” Patrick chortled. “Are you serious? Cheeto, you’re like straight out of West Side Story.” He broke into a mock dance number, and started belting out an old familiar Broadway show tune. “Toniiiight, toniiight, we’ll get them back toniiiight.”
I couldn’t help myself and cracked a grin. A baby one, but still.
Then, suddenly, Sadie’s phone rang. She rooted through the brown Coach shoulder bag she’d picked out at the mall with me last year. “A little out of season are we, Sadist?” I said.
Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I can think of one sadist around here, and it’s definitely not her.”
Sadie finally pulled out her iPhone. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
SWEETIE?
A beat of silence.
“Yeah, I’m just running some errands.”
Oh. So I’m an errand now, am I?
Easy, tiger. Patrick looked worried I might spontaneously combust.
“Sure.” Sadie glanced back toward the cemetery’s gates. “Sounds good. I’ve got my mom’s car. I’ll meet you in fifteen.”
“Ooh, a secret rendezvous,” Patrick said. “Those are my favorite.”
I gave him another evil look. I’d planned to go straight to Jacob after checking in on my grave. But this was the next best thing. No, this was better.
Catch them together. Catch them alone.
“Man, you are twisted, sister.” Patrick shook his head. “Real twisted.”
I watched Sadie place her flowers down, leaning them carefully against my headstone. As if they could’ve made up for anything I’d been through.
Well, I had news for Sadie Russo.
I may have gone down. But this time, she was going down with me.
CHAPTER 24
losing my religion
We rode along in the back of Sadie’s mom’s Jetta for ten minutes.
“Driving a little fast, are we?” I stole a glance at the speedometer. “Seems like you’re breaking the law all over the place these days, aren’t you, Russo?”
“Dude, it is not actually illegal to steal your best friend’s boyfriend.” Patrick gave me a look that said I was losing it.
“Maybe not,” I replied. “But it should be.”
We passed Sam’s Chowder House on the right and the Half Moon Brewing Company on the left. Then Artichoke Farm and Frenchman’s Creek.
“Town hasn’t really changed all that much in twenty-seven years, has it?”
My mouth dropped open. “Wait, what? You’re from here too?”
He let out a massive groan. “Are you serious, lil’ lady? Wow, remind me not to hire you the next time I need a private investigator. What did you think? I was just hanging out at Slice for all eternity because the pizza is that good?”
“I, well, I—” I stumbled over my words, suddenly embarrassed. But Patrick was right. I’d had no idea w
e were from the same town. How could I have forgotten to find out this very crucial piece of information? “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m an idiot.”
He gave me a small elbow in my side. “Buy me a Frosty and we’ll call it even.”
“Frosty? Where?” I looked up and realized Sadie had turned off the highway and pulled into the Wendy’s parking lot.
“Mm,” said Patrick, breathing in the smell of burgers and fries. “It has been way too long since I’ve had the real thing.”
“How old were you?” I asked. “I mean, when you—”
“Died?” he said. “Seventeen. Well, almost eighteen, I guess.”
I did the math in my head, taking his ’80s outfit into account. “So all this time . . . you’re saying I’ve been hanging around with a forty-five-year-old?” I giggled. “My mom is going to kill me.”
He smiled. “At least I don’t act my age.”
The sound of a car door slamming from across the parking lot caught our attention. We jumped out after Sadie before she could close her door, and I braced myself for what I knew was coming. In about three seconds, I’d be seeing Jacob’s dark green Saab, which I’d nicknamed Wasabi.
I’d be seeing him. And her. Together.
Blech.
I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d take it. The last time, it had nearly destroyed me. Six months wasn’t really that long. I hoped I’d be able to keep it together.
Control, I told myself. Control.
But the car Sadie approached wasn’t dark green, and it most definitely was not a Saab. It was a light blue Honda.
Emma’s car? What’s she doing here?
“Hey, girl,” she said to Sadie. I gasped when I saw that her hair was cropped super-short. Tess got out of the car and joined them. She looked even taller, if that was possible. She was already almost five ten. Her long, copper-penny hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked amazing. Prima ballerina.
Sadie crossed her arms, facing them. “Well? You guys wanted to see me?”
Emma and Tess exchanged looks.
“Uh-oh,” said Patrick. “I have a feeling this is going to be good. I so wish Wendy’s sold popcorn.”
I shushed him, not wanting to miss a word.
Emma glanced nervously at Tess before she spoke. “I just want to say . . . I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” I blurted out. “Why is Emma apologizing?”
Sadie’s eyes grew wide. Clearly, she couldn’t believe it either.
“It wasn’t right, us accusing you like that,” Emma went on. “It’s just—” She paused, and glanced again at Tess. “Everyone’s been talking. And we had to know the truth.”
“We hope you can forgive us,” Tess added. “We’re really, really sorry.”
I was completely, one hundred percent baffled by this turn of events. What the hell had I missed?
Don’t apologize to HER. She’s the bad guy. She’s the liar!
Sadie stared down at her feet. “For the record, I want you both to know that Jacob Fischer and I are just friends. We’ve always just been friends. Even since before Brie and I met.” Her voice wavered. “You guys believe me, don’t you?”
Emma sighed. “Yeah. We do. You just have to admit—”
“I’m not stupid.” Sadie wiped her eyes. “I know what people have been saying about me. But finding out that you guys believed it too . . .”
“No! No, no, NO!” I screamed, wishing I could shake Emma and Tess. “She is ACTING. Do not believe a word she’s telling you!”
“. . . it just really hurt my feelings.”
Oh, you bitch. You complete and total bitch.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take any of it. I wound up, right then and there, and kicked the car’s back tire as hard as I possibly could, screaming from the absolute pit of my stomach.
GOD!!!!!!!!!!
The car jolted big-time and I fell over onto the concrete, gasping in pain. “Owwwww,” I cried, holding my foot. “Owwww, ow, ow, ow, oww.”
Patrick’s mouth dropped open. He looked at the car, then back at me, then back at the car, beaming with pride. “Go. Team. EAGAN!”
“Whoa,” Tess said, backing away from the car. “Did you guys feel that?”
“I definitely felt something,” Emma said. She kneeled down and checked the tire. “What the hell just happened?”
Sadie scanned the parking lot to see if anyone else had noticed. “Maybe it was an earthquake or something?”
I sat up, realizing what I had done.
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.
An enormous smile broke out across my face. “I did it. I did it again. I freaking MADE CONTACT.”
“Yeah, you did!” He nodded at the car, grinning. “Do it again.”
I focused my emotions.
Control.
I kicked again, aiming for the door this time.
“Shit!” Tess jumped back. My foot had left a small dent.
I threw my head back and yelled, “I’m on fire!”
Patrick held up his hand to give me a giant high five.
I swung. And missed.
“Well, then,” Patrick said. “Guess we’ll just keep working on those high fives.”
I laughed, not caring. I felt totally empowered and like I could do just about anything, high-fiving aside. Watching Sadie stoop to the all-time low, and having the guts to lie about it, I was officially More Than Ready to test-drive my newfound abilities. My skin was seething with an uncontrollable, desperate urge to inflict some serious damage. Because every girl knows the First Commandment when it comes to best friends:
thou shalt not steal thy bff’s boyfriend
I jumped up on the hood of Emma’s car and let loose with one more power kick. Only this time, when my foot made contact, it cracked a hole right smack into the windshield. The girls’ mouths fell wide open as they watched big, chunky shards of glass shatter onto the asphalt.
They started screaming. Emma and Tess jumped into their car and Sadie made a dash for hers. “Call you later!” Emma yelled to Sadie as they all sped out of the parking lot.
“Well, shoot, there goes our ride,” said Patrick.
I wasn’t listening. “What day is it?”
He looked up at the sun. “Using what I learned in chapter thirteen of the D and G—‘Expert Survival Skills’—I’d say it is approximately April twenty-eighth.”
“What day of the week, I mean.”
“Wait a second.” I saw him reach for something.
“What?” I said. “What is it?”
His face erupted into a guilty smile as he held up Sadie’s phone.
Holy jackpot, Batman.
He pressed a button and the screen came to life. “Correction,” he announced a second later. “It is April twenty-ninth. Friday.”
Friday. I searched my memory. Jacob had track practice every day after school, but Fridays were almost always reserved for meets.
Patrick double-checked to make sure that nobody with a pulse was watching. Then he shoved the phone into his pocket, making it invisible to the living world. It was now officially ours. A Found Object.
“Hand it over.” I held out my hand.
“Wait a sec,” he said. “What are you up to, String Cheese?”
“Who, little old me? Why, sir, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Listen.” His voice grew serious. “I’ll go along with this for a little bit longer. But I don’t want you getting totally carried away. There are some rules you’ve gotta play by, Cheeto.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “Like what?”
“Like forgetting these idiots so you can move on, and R to the I to the P, already. And another thing.” He looked me straight in the eye. “Soon we will have to go back to Slice. Soon you will have to leave them behind. You know that, right?”
I glared back, not saying a word. Patrick was a good guy, and I’d started to care for him. But there was no way he was ever going to understand me. How could he? He was jus
t a dude from the ’80s who’d had some bad luck driving too fast on his motorcycle. What the hell could he know about love or loss or what it really felt like to have your heart torn apart?
A whole lotta nothing, that’s what.
I made my mind up right then that I wasn’t going back to Slice.
Not now, and not ever.
I did my best to hide the thought, just in case Patrick was lurking around inside my head. Did my best to at least sound like I was telling the truth.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I know we have to go back.”
I guess Sadie wasn’t the only one who could tell a good lie. Because Patrick bought it.
He smiled. “Okay then.”
I felt guilty, sure, but not guilty enough to change my mind. Because come hell or high water, there was no one who could make me go back.
Not Patrick. Not Crossword Lady. Not the devil himself.
No one.
CHAPTER 25
permanently black and blue, permanently blue, for you
I decided to wait for Jacob exactly seven blocks from the PCH campus, right in the exact same spot he rode by every single day (Bo-Bo’s), on the exact same old bike (black Raleigh Performance Hybrid), at the exact same time as usual (2:42 p.m.).
Any minute now, I was sure of it, he’d be on his way to Belcher Field—which everyone called The Burp—where the PCH track team always held track meets. Not that I was obsessive or anything.
Au contraire, mon frere.
For the record, I would like to point out that it is NOT being obsessive to memorize a boy’s schedule so that you can accidentally bump into him. It is called being efficient. Why waste time and energy running around town trying to guess where a guy’s going to be, when instead, you can actually know? And then you can actually be there. Pretty straightforward stuff, I tend to think.
Um yeah, cause you’re a stalker.
Patrick gave me a look that said he wasn’t kidding. “Fac ut vivas,” he spouted in Latin. Otherwise known as Get a life.”
I waved him off and scanned the block for the seventeenth time so I wouldn’t miss Jacob flying by. “It’s not like I used to jog by his house every half hour or anything.”
The Catastrophic History of You And Me Page 13
