“But when . . . how . . . why didn’t you say anything?” I stammered. “You’re dating Cassie Clairburne.”
“Because she’ll look twice at me,” he said. “Because she didn’t find out everything about me and then decide I wasn’t good enough.”
“I did not say you weren’t good enough.”
“But you picked him.”
“It wasn’t a choice, Ro! There was no choice.” I was spitting the words out, but I didn’t even care. “And quite frankly, it sounds like you only decided you liked me when I started dating Luke. Because you’ve always wanted what Luke has.”
Ro laughed. “I’ve always wanted what Luke has?”
“All you ever talk about is how perfect Luke is, how your dad loves him because he’s smart, how your mom loves him because he’s kind. You have always wanted what Luke has.”
He glared at me. “So what you’re saying is you don’t know me after all?”
“I don’t know what I know,” I said lamely, my voice less loud this time.
Rowan took a step toward me. “When you say there was no choice—” he said now. “Would it have changed anything if there was? If you saw a choice?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Ro kept walking until he was right in front of me. “Yes or no?”
“Don’t, Ro,” I said, swallowing as he came even closer. “I’m with Luke.”
“Tell me,” he said, ignoring what I had said. “And I’ll never ask you again.”
“I . . . I don’t kn—” I barely got the words out before he crushed his lips against mine.
Ten years.
Ten years and I had never considered—not even once—what it would be like to have Rowan’s lips on mine, what it would be like for him to touch me, to want me.
Everything was different with Rowan. It wasn’t as if Luke had never kissed me with passion, but with Ro, everything was passion. Everything was fire and ice. It was scalding, it was freezing. I wanted him to touch me and I wanted him to stop. I wanted his lips, his body, closer, but I wanted to be back at the other side of the lake, not knowing everything I now knew.
We were on our knees in the water, and his lips dropped to my neck and my chest. He pushed my knees apart so more of him could touch me.
And then everything stopped.
We heard voices on the beach and flew apart.
It was Eric and—somehow I knew instantly—Luke, who was staring into the water at us like we were strange, mythical creatures.
His name poured out from my mouth, the same mouth that had been kissing Ro seconds before, but he turned and started back up the path he and Eric had come down.
“Luke!” I raced out of the water and sprinted, but he wouldn’t stop. I ran back to the beach for my clothes, then took off after him again, but by then all I saw were trees. Shadows and night.
Eric came up behind me then, and I screamed at him, “Where did he go?”
“He parked on the other side of the trees, and then we cut through . . .”
He was talking too slowly, and I took off running again.
“Jessi!” Ro called from somewhere behind me. “Jessi!”
His long legs soon caught up to mine. At some point he’d managed to put his jeans back on, but his shirt was still in his hands and he was dripping wet.
“Jessi, Jesus, slow down!” he said, grabbing my shoulder.
“What do you want?” I snapped at him. All I saw was red. Everything was red. I wanted to strangle him. I hated what we’d done. Hated that I’d played just as much of a part as he had.
He stared at me for one second, appraising me, as if he were figuring out something just by looking at me, figuring out everything.
“I’ll go after him,” he said suddenly, throwing his shirt on. “I’ll tell him it was all me. I’ll . . . I’ll fix this.”
“You can’t fix this,” I said, starting to cry.
“I can,” he said. “I know I can. I’ll take care of it.”
He hesitated a moment, as if he had something to say, but I didn’t want to hear it. I started walking again until Ro brushed past me and said, “I’ll get my car and go after him. I’ll go all the way to State if I have to.”
Then he disappeared through the clearing, the details of his body so washed out by the darkness that soon he was a part of it.
I kept running through the trees until Eric caught up to me.
“He went back to his car. You can’t catch him,” he said, breathless, and I knew he was talking about Luke.
“Ro’s driving after him. I’ll go with him,” I said.
“And what do you think will happen when both of you show up together? How do you think Luke’s going to take that?”
“I don’t care,” I said.
“Just let Ro go,” he said, touching my shoulder. “He knows what he’s doing.”
My lungs were burning, and I was still in my wet underwear, so I stopped.
I let him go.
18
NOW
I pull open the door of my car, collapse in the front seat, and cradle my head in my hands.
I knew this day would come.
I knew it I knew it I knew it
In one night, I single-handedly destroyed everything that was good in my life. Me and Rowan. Me and Luke. Worst of all, Mel’s family. They were broken because of me.
Because I took and took and took.
I was seven and needed a friend, so I used Rowan. I needed a mother, so I latched on to Mel like she was the best thing that ever happened to me. It still wasn’t enough, so I turned to Luke.
And I completely destroyed each and every one of their lives.
And everybody but Mel knew it.
Mel, who always saw me as better than I was.
Mel, who would never look at me again if she knew.
Love each other well, she said.
The thing I care most about is that you are safe and that nobody gets hurt, she said.
How could I tell her that I had broken every promise I made to her?
How could I tell her what I had done?
THEN
It was one a.m. and I was lying in my bed, eyes still swollen from all the tears I’d shed.
I gripped my phone like a lifeline, waiting for it to ring.
Rereading all the texts I’d missed from Luke while I was getting ready for the party with Ro.
J.J., I’m sorry for being such a dick.
I’ll come tonight.
Are you mad at me?
Leaving now. So much traffic.
I’ll probably get there toward the end, but better late than never, right?
I can’t wait to see you.
We stopped at a very interesting place last time I was home. Can’t wait to pick up where we left off. (You’re in charge this time.)
Seeing his words made my heart hurt.
God, I hoped Ro was able to catch up with him. I hoped he was able to fix this.
If he couldn’t, then I’d managed to destroy one of the very best things in my life.
My relationship with Luke played in my mind like a film. From the moment he’d called me beautiful at the Continental to later that night when I’d kissed him. The evening he’d shown up at my door weeks later and kissed me back. The morning we’d fallen asleep side by side in his bed.
I’d ruined everything.
I tried to squelch the voice that told me this was destined to happen, that from the start I hadn’t belonged with the Cohens. Maybe there was something about me, or inside me, that did something to break the people I loved.
My parents had both been asleep when one of my friends from Spanish class dropped me off, so thankfully I hadn’t had to deal with any questions about why I was crying or why my clothes were wet. Not that they would have really noticed even if they were awake, but still.
I’d had a shower and changed into my pajamas, but sleeping hadn’t even occurred to me.
I couldn’t slee
p until I knew what was happening. If Luke and I were finished or if we still had a chance.
I knew Ro had said he’d handle it, but I couldn’t stop myself from sending a couple of texts to Luke.
I’m sorry.
Please call me.
And then I’d set my phone beside me, watching it, waiting for it to ring.
When it finally did, when it vibrated on my bed, my heart nearly fell out of my chest.
It was happening. He was calling.
Except it wasn’t Luke’s name that appeared on my phone.
It was Mel’s.
Mel.
I stared at it for a second.
Had things gotten so bad that Ro had to involve her? Was she calling to yell at me?
It was what I deserved, if she was. I braced myself for the impact her words would have on me.
Stay away from us, she might say.
I told you not to hurt him.
Look what you’ve done.
I took a deep breath and answered.
Mel’s first words to me were “Tell me he’s with you.”
“What?” I said. Stupidly, my first thought was relief. Mel didn’t sound angry. Maybe she didn’t know—
“Tell me he’s with you! Please! Just tell me he’s with you!” Mel shouted into the phone. I felt confused, alarmed, as her hysteria registered for the first time.
I sat up in bed. “Mel, what are you talking about?”
“Ro. You drove together. You’re always together, and now they’re here and they’re saying . . . they’re saying . . .” Her words were barely making sense, and I heard a woman’s voice in the background. Naomi’s voice?
And then a male voice I couldn’t place.
“Where are you?” Mel asked now. Her voice was shrill and desperate.
“I’m at home,” I said, my heart starting to beat faster in my chest. Mel was never like this. Never. Not when Ro fell off his bike and broke his elbow when we were nine. Not even when Dr. Cohen admitted his affair to her. In one of our shed meetings, Ro had told me what he’d overheard that night. Mel’s voice had been quiet and calm, a controlled sort of anger.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Okay, so is he with you? Is Rowan there? I tried telling them you’d be together. They’re saying he cut through Freetown Road, that he was heading to the interstate. But he wouldn’t be on the interstate. He’s with you.”
Her words were starting to sink in now. Rowan.
Not Luke, but Rowan.
Something had happened to Rowan.
Ro would have had to go on the interstate if he was going to State, if he was following Luke back to school.
My mouth was completely dry, my stomach churning.
“They said he didn’t have his phone. That maybe he would have been able to call for help if he had it,” she said. “But he wouldn’t need to if he’s with you.”
I launched for my bomber jacket and checked the pockets. Both were empty.
I had had Ro’s phone earlier tonight, but I’d lost it somewhere. Or maybe he’d taken it. Could he have gone back to the beach for it? He had to have.
Even as I thought through what Mel was saying, as I tried to rationalize and assure myself that Ro was all right, panic seared through every cell in my body and a low hum was building in my ears.
“Is he with you?” Mel asked again, desperate and frantic. “They’re saying they found the Ford.”
Who? I wanted to ask.
Who was they?
But I knew the answer without her explaining.
The police had found the Ford.
They’d found the Ford and Ro had been heading to the interstate and Mel was crying and I knew.
I knew what she wasn’t saying. I knew.
“He’s not with me,” I choked out, and Mel let out a guttural sound I had never heard before and hoped never to hear again.
“No, not my baby!” she was shouting. “Not my baby. No.”
It felt like claws digging into my chest, between my ribs, inside my lungs, hearing Mel like this. It felt like someone tearing the skin off my body, ripping it from the bone slowly. Agonizingly slowly.
Rowan.
That’s all I could think.
Rowan.
“Mel!” I shouted into the phone, but she sounded far away now, like she’d dropped it and was screaming from across the room.
“No, no, no, no,” she cried. She sounded like a wounded animal. She sounded . . .
No.
Not Rowan.
No. Her refrain became mine now, too.
No, no, no, no.
I held the phone to my ear, hoping someone would pick it up and say something else to me. Hoping it would be Ro, saying he’d just walked in and I’d never believe the way Mel was behaving.
I waited and waited and waited, listening to Mel wailing for so long that she stopped sounding human. She stopped sounding real.
There were voices, people consoling her. But none of them was Rowan.
By then I had started to shake, because I knew.
I knew.
He was gone.
My best friend was gone.
Because of me.
Everything was because of me.
19
NOW
I call in sick for everything I have on Saturday. I don’t go to Tennis Win or go to see Ernie.
I just lie in bed, reliving everything. Reliving the way Luke looked at me that night—and last night. Reliving the way Ro had looked at me before he’d run after his brother. Reliving Mel’s wails.
Reliving the funeral, the way I was sandwiched in the back between my parents, as if Rowan had been an acquaintance. The way my father rubbed my knee when I started to cry. The way Luke’s gaze had caught mine, briefly, as Ro’s family marched out of the church behind the body. And the way he’d looked away—as if he hadn’t seen anyone he knew.
The numerous texts I sent to him:
I’m so so so sorry.
Please call me. Please just . . .
He didn’t.
The next time I saw Eric, he snarled at me. “Slut,” he whispered under his breath. He got louder each time he saw me, until he was walking around saying things about me to everyone we knew. I don’t think he told them what he’d seen, what I’d done. In fact, most people probably figured something had happened between me and Eric. Maybe I’d teased him and led him on, maybe I’d been with him and he’d found out I already had a boyfriend. I didn’t give a damn what anyone said about me. I had worse things to say.
It’s just after noon when my mom sticks her head in my door. “Is everything okay, honey?”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay, well, Luke’s here to see you. Thought maybe that would cheer you up.”
“No,” I say.
“No?”
“Tell him I’m out.”
“I’m not going to lie for you,” Mom says sternly. She has been in full 2.0 mode the last twenty-four hours, popping into my room to check on me, trying to coax me out of bed. “If you’re upset with him, tell him to his face.”
“Fine,” I say now, defiant. “Tell him whatever you want, but I’m not going down to see him.”
“Can I send him up?”
“No.”
She gives a long-suffering sigh, shuts the door, and goes down the stairs.
Sunday.
“Luke’s here to see you.”
“I told you . . .”
“I’m not going to lie for you, Jessi.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong, that’s why.”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t like your attitude,” Mom says. “I’m bringing him in.”
“No!” I jolt into a sitting position. “Please don’t.”
“It’s your choice. You go out and speak to him, or I let him in. I don’t understand why you would treat such a nice boy this way.”
I press my lips together in anger but don’t say an
ything as I crawl out of bed. Luke is not seeing the filth my room has accrued in the last twenty-four hours. I still have my dignity. Or some of it anyway, since I go down in the ratty pajamas I’m wearing. There’s also the matter of my unkempt hair and the prominent hole in my right sock.
Luke is sitting in the living room, and he stands as I come down the stairs. I fold my arms across my chest.
“Hi,” he says. “Should we maybe talk outside?”
When I don’t answer, he leads the way. Once we’re outside the front door, he pushes his hand through his hair.
“I shouldn’t have . . . Friday night was . . . I’m an idiot,” he says with a sigh. “I agreed to go to the lake because I thought I was ready. I thought I could do it—be back there again. But then, the closer it got to the time, I started freaking out and I ended up getting wasted.
“Anyway,” he says now. “All that stuff I said . . . I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t lie to me,” I say.
“Lie to you?” He sounds confused.
“You’re not sorry. Those are things you’ve been wanting to say for nearly a year. Friday was the first day you were honest enough to say them.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is, Luke. I saw the way you looked at me at the funeral. I saw the way you looked at me when you first came back this summer.”
“How do I look at you now?”
“Now?”
“Now,” he says, taking a step toward me, and it’s true. All the disgust from the start of the summer is gone. The Luke in front of me looks solemn and desperate. But why would he be anything but angry at me after everything I’ve done?
“At first it hurt to be near you, to even look at you,” he admits. “But the last few weeks . . . I’ve been happier than I’ve been since Ro. I’ve been remembering all the good stuff, the happy stuff.”
“So everything is just fine now?” I hiss, because I know it can’t be true, and I want Luke to be honest with me, to be honest with himself.
“No, everything isn’t fine, Jessi,” he says, “but how do you explain the way it’s felt to be us again?”
Us.
How do I explain the way it’s felt to be us again?
The word makes my stomach flip, but all I do is shrug. “Maybe I get you off or something, so it makes it harder for you to be angry,” I say.
Some Other Now Page 25
