They stepped off the path and onto the bridge, walking carefully between the rusty tracks and rotted boards. Trees had taken root at the foot of the bridge and grown up all around it. Vines and weeds rose from the bank out onto the wooden trestle and climbed the metal posts, where they spread out, lush as a Cambodian jungle, and formed a green bower. As Kate moved forward toward the garden alcove, Lucas’s arm shot out and stopped her. She looked down at the chasm yawning at her feet and gasped. They had come farther than she realized, near to the point where the bridge fell away, leaving nothing but air between her and the water.
“Careful,” he said, and their eyes met. Her heart pounded, with adrenaline and with lust.
“I love it here,” she whispered.
Her fingers closed on the smooth skin of his arm. She pulled him closer, and their lips met. Her mouth moved down his neck to the hollow of his collarbone where a pulse beat. His skin tasted of salt and smelled warm, like the sun baking on a beach blanket.
He pulled her away. “This isn’t why I brought you here. We need to talk.”
Lucas pulled her into an area where the leafy curtain was the thickest. The spot was well used, and they stepped over the detritus of other people’s hookups—condom wrappers, beer bottles, cigarette butts. Lucas cleared a space for them, kicking the trash over to the knife’s edge where the bridge ended, and launching it down into the water. When the garbage was gone, he stripped off his T-shirt and swiped at the floor, whisking away any last specks. She watched his back as he moved, the smooth expanse, the power of it. When he was satisfied that the floor was clean, he shook out the T-shirt, then laid it down like a blanket.
“Sit down, let’s talk.”
“Oh, with your shirt off. I know what you want. The same thing as every other boy.”
“Fine, I’ll put it back on and you can sit on the tracks. I was trying to be a gentleman about it.”
“About breaking up with me?”
“Like I said, I need some head space.”
“It’s not me, it’s you?”
“Exactly.”
“Do you know what a fucking cliché that is?”
“Yeah, I get it, I’m a cliché.”
She felt short of breath and shaky. Desperate, on the verge of tears. Was it the coke, or was it Lucas? Kate cried rarely. It was an unusual sensation for her, and she didn’t like it.
“There are things I could do for you,” she began.
She knelt on the T-shirt beside him, took his face in her hands, and lifted her mouth to his.
“This won’t change anything,” he said, but his body relaxed under her touch, and his mouth opened.
He couldn’t mean it. He gave in to the kiss too enthusiastically. She ran her hands down his broad back and settled them on the backside of his jeans, pulling him tight against her and shifting to straddle him. His body couldn’t lie: he was hard already. His mouth was hot on her skin, and his hands were urgent as he tore at her clothes. He pushed her backward, and she cried out as he yanked off her panties and plunged into her. With the leaves rustling in the hot breeze, Kate felt like she was living some other girl’s life. This is what it would be like if she’d been born in Belle River, with a normal family, and Lucas was her sweetheart. She would feel joy, she would be able to love someone, tears would wet her cheeks as they made love. But this was a dream, an interlude. She wasn’t from here, she wasn’t like that, and this thing with Lucas was over already.
When they had finished, he rolled off her, and they lay apart, the cooling air taking the heat from their skin. Kate turned her head and gazed at the open sky, where the gap between the broken trestles yawned, mere feet away. The sun had set, but the moon hadn’t risen yet, and stars were just appearing in the heavens. High up in her bower, she could hear the rush of the river and the noise from the highway that ran along the opposite bank. All those people going about their business, unaware that she was lying here with Lucas, both of them spent and panting. This couldn’t be the last time. She wouldn’t allow it.
Kate sat up and crossed her arms, hugging herself against the chill. She reached for her cutoffs, pulled out the baggie, and did another bump for courage. She had to change his mind somehow.
“I thought you said no drugs,” Lucas said.
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
She didn’t reply, but stopped to listen to the water rushing below. As the coke hit her bloodstream, she felt it in her toes, her eyeballs, the ends of her hair. She was at one with this place, with its power and its beauty. She was strong. And she had an idea.
“I want to do the jump,” she said.
Lucas cocked his head like she was crazy. “Are you nuts? It’s wicked cold.”
“It was almost eighty degrees today.”
“I’m talking about water temperature. Ice-out came late this year. The water’s still below freezing. I mean, take a look, there’s still ice along the edges.”
“Don’t be a wuss. Jump with me. We’ll hold hands.”
He sat up and watched as she dressed. She moved more languorously with his eyes on her, certain that she could bend him to her will by showing him something he liked. Men were so visual, after all.
“Where’s the primo spot to jump from—just right here, where the bridge ends?” she asked.
“I’m telling you, you can’t swim in the Belle at this time of year for more than a few minutes without cramping up. Trying to jump now would be epically stupid.”
“Stupidity never stopped me before, and I’m quite sure it never stopped you.”
He made an exasperated noise, then stood up and started pulling his clothes on. Darkness was falling hard. Lucas flicked on the flashlight and finished dressing in its glow.
“Where are you going?” she asked, a quiver of alarm in her voice.
“Home. You want a ride back to the Quad, fine, but then we’re done.”
“But—we just had sex. And you liked it, I know you did.”
“I always like it with you. That doesn’t make us right. Go back to your rich boyfriend. He’s the one for you. You can abuse him and he won’t complain, he’ll pay for your coke. It’s perfect. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“Lucas, I didn’t mean to say you were stupid. I’m sorry if it came out wrong. Lucas, please!”
He tried to move past her but she grabbed at his arm. The flashlight flew from his hands, bouncing once and flying off the edge of the bridge. The water was so far below that they heard no splash. Lucas exclaimed in alarm. Kate peeked over the edge and got a sick, excited fluttering in her stomach. In the fading light, the water below looked black instead of silver. She could hear the roar, and see the sparkle of light on water. She saw the force of the current.
“Jesus. Be careful,” he said.
“What if I want to jump?” Kate said, her voice full of sick excitement. The world felt off kilter, and her instincts said to lean into that feeling, to welcome it. If she couldn’t have Lucas, they could both jump, and let the chips fall where they may. Maybe they’d live, maybe they’d die, but they’d be together.
“You’re crazier than I thought,” he said.
“Kate!”
The shout rang out from the path behind them, startling them both. For a terrible instant, Kate lost her balance and tottered, arms helicoptering, much too close to the edge, until Lucas grabbed her. She felt the electricity in his arms as they stepped back from the brink. The two of them were connected, in fear, in excitement, and she loved the sensation. Kate turned toward the voice. Aubrey stood at the foot of the bridge, her tall, pale form lit up against the backdrop of dark trees. Just what Kate needed. Her loser roommate showing up at the critical moment when she and Lucas were about to get somewhere ultimate. Aubrey would ruin it.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Lucas said.
“I’ll get rid of her,” Kate said under her breath.
“He’s breaking up with you, isn’t he?” Aubrey said, co
ming toward them.
“No, he is not. You don’t have the first fucking clue about it. How did you find us?” Kate demanded.
“Timmy told me.” When Kate looked blank, Aubrey said, “The kid from Shecky’s. I rode my bike all the way from town. I knew you would need me, Kate.”
“I don’t need you. Lucas and I want to be alone, so go away.”
“Your roommate’s right, Kate,” Lucas said. “I said what I came to say. Enough already, I’m out of here.”
“No!” Kate cried. She turned on Aubrey. “Get out of here, you psycho bitch! You’re ruining everything.”
“Kate, he’s just some townie asshole. He doesn’t matter. Don’t you see?”
“He’s the only thing that matters. Get lost. Get out of here!”
“Face it,” Aubrey said cruelly, “he doesn’t want you. But it’s okay. This place is perfect. We can jump, we can stick it to them all. We can end it, just like you and Maggie planned,” Aubrey said.
“Leave Maggie out of this,” Kate said.
“Who’s Maggie?” Lucas said.
Kate motioned to the tattoo on her wrist. “My best friend from high school who died. Remember? I told you about her.”
“The one who OD’d?” Lucas said. “Wait a minute, did she kill herself? Is that why you’re so keen to jump? You want to off yourself, and take me with you? God, I’m sick of all you Carlisle freaks. You’re all crazy.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Kate said, turning on Lucas, hysteria building in her voice.
Aubrey’s mention of Maggie had knocked something loose inside her, something terrible and dark, that had been building all night. The people Kate loved always left her. Her mother, Maggie. Lucas was trying to walk out on her, too. She couldn’t let that happen. She would be so alone. She would have nothing. She refused.
Lucas shook his head disgustedly and tried again to walk past Kate. She grabbed his arm with both hands, and held tight.
Her eyes were wild. “Lucas, you’re not leaving. We’re not done. I have more to show you,” she cried.
“You don’t own me, rich girl. Let go.”
Lucas tried to shake her off, but Kate’s grip was superhuman.
“Let go, I said, you crazy bitch.”
He pried her hands loose forcibly, but instead of retreating, she advanced, striking and clawing at him wildly. Lucas shrank back and raised his fists to his face, like a boxer on the ropes.
“Stop it! Stop, you’re out of control.”
“Don’t … you … leave … me!” Kate screamed, scratching at him with her long nails.
She couldn’t stop hitting him. He’d hurt her, she’d hurt him back. Lucas hunched over and stepped back to escape the onslaught of Kate’s fists. Her field of vision filled with rage, and she forgot everything. She forgot that Aubrey was standing there watching. She forgot that there was a giant abyss where the bridge had once been right behind Lucas’s feet. She was not aware that two more people had arrived at the bridge; she didn’t hear them shout at her to stop, to watch out, to be careful. Kate saw and heard nothing except for Lucas and the rush of blood in her ears. Focused on him as she was, she did see the moment when his foot found only open air and he began to slip backward. Oh, she remembered the gap then. Hidden in her panic was a rush of satisfaction. A wild fear spread across Lucas’s face as he began to fall, and Kate thought—in the split second before she started to scream—you’ll be sorry now.
18
Jenny turned the key and stepped into the living room of suite 402. Somebody had shut the windows she’d purposely left open when she left for class this morning, and now it was hot in here, and smelled funky. Aubrey and Kate had gotten lax about laundry, and started leaving food lying around. Jenny wasn’t a maid. If they couldn’t observe basic standards of cleanliness, maybe she’d take the plunge and sign up to room with Rebecca Levine next year. But in her heart, she doubted she could do it. That night in Jamaica, when Lucas confessed that Kate had gotten under his skin, Jenny knew exactly what he meant. Her roommates weren’t good for her, but she was hung up on them, like on a bad boyfriend.
Jenny threw open the windows, and turned on the fan, then did the same in the double. There was a piece of paper lying on her bedspread that hadn’t been there this morning. She picked it up. It was a note, in Aubrey’s handwriting, with a second piece of paper folded up and tucked beneath it.
“Jenny,” she read, “they’re trying to kick me out of school. I can’t can’t can’t handle that. I can’t take it anymore. Kate knows what to do. We are ready to die. Life is too hard. I’m not brave like you. Kate will help me end my troubles. I love you, and thank you for always being there for me. Aubrey.”
Her first reaction was not to believe it. Aubrey was a drama queen who’d cried for help many times before, and Jenny was tired of the theatrics. Then she unfolded the second piece of paper, which had been furled into a tiny rectangle like a piece of origami. It was a letter from the Committee on Academic Standards informing Aubrey that she faced expulsion from Carlisle if she didn’t post a miraculous turnaround in her grades. That part was true, then—Aubrey was on the verge of getting kicked out. Jenny thought about the terrible things that had happened to Aubrey in the past few months. Her mother’s death. That humiliating mess in Jamaica with Griff Rothenberg. Now, the prospect of getting expelled from Carlisle, when Carlisle was the only thing Aubrey had left. That would be enough to break a strong person, and Aubrey wasn’t strong. This suicide threat could be real. What’s more, Kate was supposedly in on the suicide pact, and helping Aubrey. And Keniston Eastman had specifically warned Jenny that Kate had a history of self-destructive behavior.
Shit. Jenny was supposed to be watching for signs of exactly this sort of thing, but if there had been any, she’d missed them. She’d screwed up.
Jenny ran to the phone in the living room and dialed Keniston’s private number. No answer. She left an urgent message on the answering machine, laying out the facts, and prayed he’d call back quickly. When the phone didn’t ring immediately, Jenny started to feel sick to her stomach. What if Aubrey was already dead? Or Kate was? Should she call the police? As she picked up the phone to dial, there was a knock on the door. Jenny felt a surge of relief and ran to open it, thinking it would be Aubrey coming back. But it was Rebecca Levine.
“What’s the matter?” Rebecca asked, her smile fading as she saw Jenny’s expression.
“Oh, my God, Rebecca. Aubrey left me a suicide note. Here, read it.”
Jenny thrust the note at her. As Rebecca read, a look of horror spread across her face.
“This sounds like it’s for real.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jenny said.
“I saw Aubrey on the Quad a little while ago. She was going to Shecky’s to look for Kate. You should go after them, Jen. See if you can talk them out of it. If they’re really suicidal, they should go to the Health Center.”
“You’re right.”
“I’ll stay here in case they come back.”
“I think we should call the police,” Jenny said.
“Good idea. I’ll call. You hurry! Try to catch them before anything bad happens.”
Jenny ran down the stairs, across the Quad and out Briggs Gate, her hair flying. Her heart pounded as she dodged traffic on College Street. At Shecky’s she threw herself, panting, against the glass door, making the bell jangle as it flew inward. Tim Healy looked up from the cash register. Tim was Lucas’s cousin, a sweet kid who was a few years behind them in school. She ran over to him, struggling to catch her breath so she could get words out.
“What’s wrong, Jenny?” Tim said, looking concerned.
“I’m looking for Kate Eastman and Aubrey Miller. You know them, right?”
“Sure, why?”
“Were they here?” she said.
“Yeah, a little while ago. Kate came in with Lucas. He broke up with her right in front of me. She was flipping out. He borrowed my car so they coul
d go to the old railroad bridge for some privacy.”
“The railroad bridge. When?”
“Maybe like”—he glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall—“an hour ago, more or less. Aubrey came by after they left. She wanted to know where Kate was. I told her, and she took off on her bike.”
“I have to get to the bridge right away. Can you give me a ride?”
“Lucas took my car, and my shift’s not over till eight. Is something wrong?”
Jenny smashed her hand on the counter, on the verge of tears.
“Tell me what the problem is,” Tim said.
“Aubrey’s gone off the deep end because she’s in trouble at school. Now you’re telling me Lucas broke up with Kate. I’m worried about them, Tim, really worried, like they might be a danger to themselves. Please help me.”
“Wait here. I’ll figure something out,” Tim said.
He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a set of keys, shucking his apron and tossing it so it caught on a hook behind the counter.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They raced toward the river in somebody’s ancient pickup truck. Jenny’s once-crisp white blouse showed through in places with sweat, and her knees bobbed up and down frantically.
“Can’t you go faster?” she said.
“Not unless I want to get stopped,” Tim said. “Hey, are you telling me the whole story?”
“I told you, they’re in trouble. Aubrey left a suicide note. My other friend called the police to look for them.”
They were on the river road now, and Tim stepped hard on the gas. Jenny’s hair whipped into her eyes in the rush of air from the window. Darkness was falling. The moths looked like snowflakes rushing into the glare of the headlights.
It's Always the Husband Page 16
