by R.S. Grey
He wanted to run and greet her as much as I did. Lilah was back. She was back, and yet she was so different. Black hair and short shorts and a drug-induced haze. But she was also the same girl I’d always known—pale, small, freckled, and lost. I scraped my chair back and stood to announce my presence, but she was already gone. Her eyes popped open and she ran for the stairs, clutching her stomach with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. She was too sick to notice me standing in the kitchen.
I put Harvey outside and then took the stairs two at a time. We were sharing a bathroom, her and I. She would have noticed my shaving cream beside hers, but her head was over the toilet and she was throwing up, making deep loud heaves that sounded as if her body was rejecting everything inside of her.
I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door carefully so her dad wouldn’t hear over the game footage. She reached for toilet paper, wiped her mouth, and whirled around to stare at me.
Her eyes hit me all at once, bright green and vulnerable until she registered who I was.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking another tentative step closer.
She narrowed her eyes and pointed at the door. “GET OUT.”
“Lilah—”
She spun back around and threw up again, her protests about my presence losing to her body’s need to purge itself of the night’s indiscretions.
“Did you drink?” I asked.
She nodded, quick and almost imperceptible.
“Did you take something too?”
She didn’t respond, so I repeated the question. “Lilah, did you take anything?”
“Molly,” she said, resting her head on her arm along the edge of the toilet.
I reached around her to flush and caught a whiff of her. She smelled like she’d bathed in cigarette smoke and throw up. I bent low to check if she was all right. Her eyes were closed, her lips cracked and raw. I watched her chest, trying to make out the rise and fall beneath her tank top.
I could feel the heat rolling off of her and after I confirmed she was still breathing, I crept back down the stairs for a glass of water, and then thought better of it and got two.
When I returned, she was awake and sitting with her back against the bathtub. Her knees were pulled to her chest and her hands were wrapped around them, keeping her body in a tight ball.
“Here, drink these,” I said, dropping the glasses near her feet and looking away before she could shoot me another death stare.
I rifled through the medicine cabinet above the toilet. Everything in it was old or empty. The only bottle of Advil had expired the year before but I still grabbed it. She’d need something to curb the headache in the morning.
“The prodigal daughter returns,” she slurred with a dark tone. “And who runs to meet her?”
I turned from the medicine cabinet to catch her staring up at me with the same fury as before.
“None other than Chase Matthews, the golden boy himself.” She smirked and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Is this how you expected to find me? Just like her?”
Chapter Nine
November 1996
Blackwater, Texas
The old house sat silent in the night except for the two teenage girls trying in vain to keep quiet in the bathroom. Hannah propped Elaine up over the toilet and held her long blonde hair away from her face.
“Shhhh. My parents are going to be back any second and I don’t want them to hear us,” Hannah warned. “They’ll know we’re drunk.”
Elaine giggled. “I’m not drunk. Are you drunk?”
Hannah rolled her eyes and leaned forward to ensure Elaine’s head was positioned over the toilet. They’d already made a mess in her room, something she’d have to deal with as soon as she got Elaine to sleep.
“Chris was so cute tonight. Did you see him?”
“Elaine. I was with you when you were talking to him.”
Elaine erupted into another fit of giggles that eventually gave way to dry heaves. Hannah rubbed her friend’s back, trying to contain her own urge to throw up. They’d both had too many beers, but there had been a real cause to celebrate. Hannah had received a letter from the University of Texas in the mail earlier that morning. She’d been granted early acceptance into their nursing program. It was her first choice school and her first choice city. She was thrilled, her parents were thrilled, and most importantly, Elaine was thrilled.
As soon as they graduated, they’d leave Blackwater together and never look back.
Chapter Ten
Lilah
My mother's eyes were a shade of pale green that as a child I swore looked like gemstones. I’d sit with her out in the garden when I was little and the sun would shine so bright I’d have to squint to see her face, but those green eyes could always find me through the glare.
I was dreaming of her green eyes—the same green eyes that stared back at me every time I looked in the mirror—when something cold and wet pressed against my cheek. I jolted out of my dream only to feel the strange sensation again. I blinked my eyes open just in time to see a fat pink tongue reach out and lick from my chin up to my mouth.
“What the hell?!” I screamed and bolted up in my bed.
“Harvey! Get out of there. Harvey! C’mon!”
I had one fraction of a second when all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place before I realized Chase was standing in my doorway. Shirtless.
“Bad dog,” Chase frowned, eyeing his dog like he was about to throw him out the window.
He was toeing the invisible line of my bedroom, trying to retrieve Harvey without encroaching on my territory. I reached for my comforter and tried to conceal my white tank top.
His short blond hair was still mussed from sleep, but every other piece of his appearance was in place: straight nose, strong jaw, golden tan, and lips that I knew could stretch into a grin that would make my toes curl. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his pajama pants sat low on his hips. I took in the slope of his stomach as he bent down to lure Harvey back to him.
“He didn't get to meet you last night,” Chase said, giving up and standing to cross his arms over his chest.
Last night.
Last night.
My cheeks burned with a blush I knew Chase could see.
I pulled my gaze away from him and looked back down at Harvey. He was wagging his tail and eyeing me with so much love that it was impossible not to reach over and pat his head. His blond fur was silky soft and the moment my hand connected with him, he stepped closer and rested his chin on the top of my comforter.
I had always wanted a dog.
“He can stay,” I said, keeping my eyes on Harvey.
“Are you sure?” Chase asked.
I nodded without looking back up. The image of Chase was already burned into my memory; there was no need to make it worse.
I heard a chuckle and then a moment later the door shut and I was alone again—well, alone with Harvey.
I patted the top of my bed. “C'mon.”
Not two seconds later, that massive dog was twirling in a circle on top of my blanket, making himself at home. He tucked into a ball by my side and rested his head on my chest. I stared down into his eyes, reminded of my earlier dream. In the light of day, bright brown eyes were much more comforting than pale green.
Chapter Eleven
Chase
I stood outside Lilah’s bedroom wondering where Harvey's loyalty would lie at the end of the day. I hadn't seen Lilah like that in years; she’d presented a very different version of herself the night before with dark clothes, dark hair, and an expression that did a fairly good job of warning me away. Just then, however, I’d seen a glimpse of the Lilah I had known before, soft eyes, freckles and all. I’d wanted to follow Harvey into her bedroom and lock us away the rest of the day.
Instead, I turned back for my new room across the hall. I was still getting used to the size. It was small, more like a storage space than an actual bedroom. The old queen bed took up
most of the room and the boxes in the corner made it hard to use what little space was leftover.
I made it a point to ignore the boxes. Every time I glanced over them my chest tightened in anger. Even after a year and a half, I hated the woman down to the very marrow of her bones, bones that now lay in the earth—where they belonged.
My phone buzzed on the bed and I reached over to see the text messages that had started to accumulate.
Brian: Basketball at the school courts at 2? Connor's in.
Connor: Let's party at Kimberly's after basketball. Aren't her parents out of town?
Kimberly: Hey C. My parents are still MIA. Let’s celebrate the last day of winter break tonight at my house! Let me know. XO
I didn't bother responding to any of them. Those people—my high school friends—didn’t seem to belong in the Calloways’ house. They weren’t part of my history, not like Lilah was. I needed five more minutes where I could recreate the image of her on her bed. Five more minutes to linger in the past.
Chapter Twelve
Lilah
Monday morning arrived with a crash of banging pots and another round of dog licks courtesy of Harvey. He hadn't left my side the day before, partly because I'd remained in bed the entire day, reading and napping, and partly because I’d let him have half of my dinner. Either way, I wasn't surprised to find him in my bed on Monday morning, hovering over me with wide eyes and an eternally wagging tail.
I groaned as I rolled out from under my covers and slid into a standard pair of loose jeans, Converse, and a long-sleeved black shirt. While I swiped on my eyeliner and mascara, I gave myself an internal pep talk. I had one semester of high school left. One semester of dealing with people I wanted to escape, one semester of pretending I belonged in a town that held nothing but sad memories.
Before I’d left for Austin, I'd been on the dance team and had hung out with Chase and the other popular kids. In those days, Chase had been the only person who really knew the unfiltered version of my life. Now, everyone knew my family’s crazy. No point trying to hide it any more.
My dad had tried to get me to go to therapy after my mom’s death, but the ones in Austin were too expensive. I knew how much stress he was already under, so I told him and my aunt I didn't need it. I told them therapy wouldn’t bring her back and “besides, I’m fine.” I believed I'd figure out how to move on and I promised to tell him if it ever got to the point where I needed help.
We hadn't talked about it since and I wasn’t sure whose fault that was.
…
When I walked downstairs after getting ready for school, I located the source of the banging pots that had originally jarred me awake. Chase was scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes, all while Harvey sat at his feet, hoping to get a sample of his creations.
I whistled for Harvey and he trotted over, drawing Chase’s attention as well.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I breathed in the sight of him. It was something I’d never get used to: that easy smile and his familiar hazel eyes. At least this time he was wearing a shirt.
The smell of maple syrup almost convinced me to give in, but I shook my head.
“I'm fine,” I said, moving to the fridge and reaching inside for a carton of orange juice. I poured myself a glass and took small sips as I tried to comprehend the extreme awkwardness of the situation. Chase was cooking breakfast in my kitchen. He was scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Lilah! Need a ride to school?” my dad asked, running out of his room in khakis and a white polo with “Blackwater Baseball” embroidered over the breast pocket. He was clearly in a rush.
“Nah, go ahead.”
He grabbed his baseball cap and tugged it on, already halfway out the door. “Okay. Be home for dinner later. I’ll whip up something to celebrate your first day back!”
The front door slammed shut behind him, shaking the front windows and highlighting the fact that Chase and I were now very alone in my house.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Chase turn off the stove, shovel eggs and pancakes onto two plates, and set them down on the kitchen table across from one another.
He chose the side facing me, sat down, and cut off my line of sight to the windows so that I had no choice but to meet his eyes or cave and look away.
“I made enough for the both of us,” he said as he doused his pancakes with what looked like two gallons of syrup.
“I don't normally eat breakfast.”
He arched a brow, scooped up a big bite of eggs, and then smiled at me while he chewed. I could not wrap my head around him. Didn't he understand how this situation was supposed to play out? We were meant to ignore each other's existence and go about business as usual.
We sat in uncomfortable silence as I sipped my juice and he finished off his breakfast. As I moved to wash out my cup, he hopped out of his seat and came to stand directly behind me so he could reach around and place his dish in the sink. His arm skimmed my waist and I tried to stay calm as his height eclipsed mine.
“I think we should ride to school together,” he said, finally taking a step back.
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“No thanks,” I answered simply.
He crossed his arms. “Lilah, it makes sense. We're both going to the same place.”
“I like to walk.”
“That was before you moved away. Now, I can give you a ride.”
He smiled and my thoughts slid away. The full extent of his smile was something that could only be processed in pieces. Matching dimples, straight teeth—it was the source of all of his power.
I shook away my momentary paralysis.
“I like walking. It clears my head,” I said, moving to put distance between us and retrieve my backpack from the kitchen doorway.
Just as I slung the strap over my shoulder, I heard metal clang against the kitchen table. When I turned, I saw his car keys sitting on top of the worn wood, directly over the spot where my mom had always sat.
“All right, then I'll walk with you,” he declared.
Chapter Thirteen
Chase
I had known Lilah would be a challenge, but she was proving to be more complex than any of my old cameras. No one in their right mind turned down my pancakes. They were the best in Blackwater—probably the world—fluffy and soft, yet crisp and golden brown. I sat at the table, watching her take sips of orange juice, and tried to pretend that the fluffy dough and maple syrup were enough to occupy my mind. In reality, I was thinking of how to break the ice between us. I wanted to just shout, “It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. Let’s forgive each other and move on.” But, something told me Lilah wouldn't respond to a direct apology like that. She was a feral cat. I had to coax her into trusting me slowly, and walking to school with her was just the beginning.
Blackwater High School was only about a mile away from Lilah's house, and I had no problem leaving my truck behind in favor of walking alongside her. The second we bid farewell to Harvey—who was not pleased to be left behind—she pulled out her iPod and cut herself off from the rest of world.
The message was clear, but I ignored it.
“So you like orange juice for breakfast, huh? Vitamin C, right?”
No answer.
I could hear her music blaring through her headphones and I knew she couldn't hear a single world I was saying.
“I like it too. It's good when you make it with fresh squeezed oranges. Remember when we kept burying whole oranges in your backyard to try to get trees to grow? Didn't we go a year before your dad told us they were seedless?”
No answer, but I swore she picked up her pace. It wasn't a challenge to keep up—I was nearly a foot taller than her and she was already taking two steps to each one of mine—but the idea that she was trying to get away from me made me laugh.
“Yeah, good times,” I answered wistfully.
Usually before
school, I pulled my truck into my designated spot in the student parking lot and hung around outside with my friends until classes started. Lilah had usually joined me before she moved away, but something told me the student lot was no longer her scene.
As we rounded the sidewalk to the front of the school, our separate worlds unfolded before us. I could already see Connor, Brian, and Kimberly hanging around my spot. A few guys from the baseball team waved to me from behind the chain-link fence near the front of the lot and I nodded back.
Lilah slowed down and pulled back from me until I had to either stop walking or leave her behind.
I glanced back to find her attention focused ahead of us and when I followed her line of sight, I came face to face with Trent Bailey.
He'd been leaning against the giant oak tree that sat in the direct center of the front lawn. The stoners had claimed it as their territory since the dawn of time. The second he’d spotted Lilah, he pushed off the tree and walked to meet her.
I fought against my better judgment to try and stop her from heading over to him. Since when does she hang out with Trent Bailey?
My fists clenched by my sides.
“Lilah—” I said, not sure of where my sentence would lead.
She brushed by me and walked toward Trent like she was greeting an old friend. Suddenly, I was the outsider, the voyeur. Still, I couldn’t make myself move. I stood paralyzed and confused, staring at her dark hair as if I’d find answers hidden in the dark strands.
